


Carry Home My Wayward Soul

by wbss21



Category: The Avengers, Thor - Fandom
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Abusive Relationship, Age Difference, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, NorseBro Feels, PTSD, STD's, Violence, rape/noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 81,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2595176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wbss21/pseuds/wbss21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor hasn't seen Loki in over a year. Not since he moved out of their apartment and in with his boyfriend Thanos. And then one day, Loki shows back up, worse for ware than Thor's seen him in a long time. Thor human AU. Warnings for graphic depictions of violence, mentions of rape/non-con, hurt/comfort, NorseBros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s freezing in the apartment when he walks in, which doesn’t make any sense, Thor thinks, because he knows he left the heat on when he left for work this morning. 

It’s January, and 35 degrees out, and right now it doesn’t feel any warmer in here.

His first thought is that the damn heater must have broken again, and that’s what he gets for living in such a shitty complex. But as he closes the front door behind him and tosses his keys onto the side table, he becomes aware of a biting draft working its way through the space, like the cold air from outside is blowing in.

Immediately he tenses, senses suddenly on high alert.

This is also what he gets, he supposes, for living in such a shitty complex in such a shitty neighborhood. But his current pay won’t allow for anything better, and he just had to go all independent and tell Father and Mother that he didn’t need their financial support, or that position Dad offered in his firm, despite the fact Thor went to Cambridge and got his damn law degree and everything.

As he reaches for the bat he keeps hidden beneath the sofa, he thinks being a rebel really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Though this won’t be the first thief he’s scared the shit out of and chased screaming from his apartment.

Thor’s a big guy. He knows it. The second the little bastards get a load of him, they usually drop everything and run.

He moves as quietly as he can, though he thinks he’s probably already given himself away from the way he tossed his keys and slammed the door.

Maybe they’re already gone and the fucker left his back door open on their way out. 

Either way, Thor’s pissed, and he swears, he might actually chase them down the street this time if they’re still around.

Rounding the corner into his kitchen, he raises the bat and sucks in a deep breath, getting ready to roar to the heavens.

And then he steps past the threshold, and stops dead in his tracks.

The door is open, like he thought, leading out to his barely qualifying half-balcony, overlooking the lovely back alley where everyone dumps their trash, and standing there, back turned to Thor, elbow propped in one hand, cigarette in the other, is his little brother.

For a moment, Thor finds himself stunned into silence, the bat lowering numbly to his side, and he stares for long seconds, watching Loki, standing still as a statue, moving only to pull a drag every now and then.

“Well, are you going to say hello, or are you just going to stand there gapping all night like some love-struck fool?”

Loki’s voice carries across the small space, clear and cutting, and it’s enough to shake Thor out of his momentary stupor.

He swallows thickly, stepping forward and stopping again.

“Loki…” he starts, and he can’t quite keep the shock out of his voice.

Loki, who he hasn’t seen in more than a year.

Who last he’d seen, had been moving in with his then boyfriend, Thanos. 

Thor had never liked Thanos.

The guy was a straight up bastard, and in Thor’s opinion, possibly psychopathic. 

Loki wasn’t someone to let anyone push him around or talk down to him. His brother was too damn smart, and would cut you to shreds with his tongue if you even looked at him funny.

But Thanos… Thanos had always done just that. Talked down to Loki and exerted a kind of control over him which Thor had never seen anyone able to accomplish. 

He hadn’t liked either the way he’d sometimes seen the guy put hands on Loki, pulling him along, or shoving him where he wanted him to go.

It had confused the hell out of Thor, that Loki would allow anyone to treat him that way. Loki just wasn’t the type. He wasn’t some wilting flower.

He wouldn’t even let Dad treat him that way, except when he was a lot younger. He’d talk right back to the old man, get in his face and everything.

But around Thanos, Loki would always just shut right down and comply wordlessly to whatever the son of a bitch told him to do.

Thor remembered getting into a heated argument with his brother over it, just before Loki had moved out, trying to make him see reason, trying to understand why he was even with Thanos.

Loki had screamed at him that he just didn’t get it. Claimed he was in love with Thanos. Said that in Thanos, he’d finally found someone who could keep up with his breakneck thought process.

Thor didn’t get that either. Thanos wasn’t what he’d call stupid, but fuck, he wasn’t half as smart as his kid brother.

No one was, really.

But that had been that. Loki had moved out, and Thor hadn’t heard from him since. Not even a phone call or an email or a letter, as Loki preferred still.

Even their Mom hadn’t heard from him more than a couple times, and Loki had always made it a point to stay in contact with her. He’d always treated their mother like a Queen.

But there he was now, standing out on the balcony, smoking a cigarette just like always. Like no time had passed at all.

Belatedly, Thor remembers how damn cold it is outside, and old habits kick in hard.

“Jesus Loki, it’s freezing out there.” He starts, leaning the bat up against the kitchen table and moving towards his brother. “Get inside here before you catch cold.”

He’s nearly to Loki, and he sees his brother flick the ash at the end of his cigarette away, shuffling farther out onto the deck, back still turned towards him.

“I’m fine Thor. You know the cold’s never bothered me.”

“Like hell Loki.” Thor argues. And he remembers without want all the times he’d found Loki out in the dead of winter, frozen half to death and shivering like a leaf, having to drag him back inside and rub him down with heated blankets and hot water bottles and wrap him in his own body heat.

Loki, who’s never really been very good at taking care of himself, despite all that brain power. Maybe because of it.

Thor’s always thought of the phrase ‘too smart for your own good’ when it comes to his brother.

He doesn’t hesitate, closing the distance and grabbing Loki round his upper arm, pulling him back inside.

He ignores the agitated protest from the younger man. He also ignores how frighteningly skinny he can feel Loki is beneath his suit jacket.

Tries to ignore the sudden swell of guilt he feels for ever letting his brother run off with that piece of shit like he did.

Loki needs looking after, and Thanos was never going to fill that role.

“Would you let go of me!?” Loki snaps, and finally Thor releases his grip, closing the door to the balcony.

He doesn’t even ask permission before he’s plucking the still burning cigarette from Loki’s fingers and tossing it in the sink, turning the tap on to put it out.

“No smoking in here. You know the rules.” He says.

Loki scoffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his thin chest.

“I wasn’t smoking in here. I was out on the balcony.” He informs in that haughty tone which sets Thor’s teeth on edge.

“You had the door wide open and smoke and cold air was wafting in.” Thor replies bluntly, to which he receives another eye roll.

“Whatever Thor. You’re always so uptight.” Loki says, turning away.

“And you’re always so reckless.” Thor shoots back, starting to feel annoyed now. “Why are you here Loki?” He asks. “How’d you even get in?”

His eyes narrow as he watches his brother start towards the kitchen table, pulling out a chair. He doesn’t fail to notice the stiffness of Loki’s movements as he lowers himself into the seat, sitting carefully. Gingerly. Like he’s in pain.

He threads skeletally thin hands together atop the table, shrugging.

“I still have my old key.” He informs. “And apparently you’ve yet to change the locks.”

He isn’t looking at Thor, and it gives the older man a chance to really look at his kid brother.

Now that he does, Loki really doesn’t look so great.

He’s disheveled in a way that’s truly unlike him. Usually immaculately pressed suit rumpled and even dirty looking, shirt collar undone and without a tie. His hair’s longer than Thor’s ever seen it. Down to his shoulders now and messy, where normally Loki would always wear it slicked tightly and neatly back.

The rooms dark, the lights still out. Even still, Thor can make out what looks like dark smudges across the sharp, angular features of his brother’s face, and can see, even from this distance and the minimal light, Loki’s hands are shaking, if only just.

An abrupt, sickening dread takes hold Thor’s insides, and without thinking, he moves to switch on the lights.

The moment he does, Loki hisses and turns his face away, pressing a hand over it.

“God damn it Thor!” He says. “My eyes hurt!”

In the better lighting, Thor sees Loki’s even more out of sorts than he’d realized.

His suit’s not just rumpled, it’s filthy looking. Like he’s been rolling around on the ground and in the dirt. His hair’s matted and tangled and split at the ends, like he hasn’t combed or washed it in more than a few days.

And his hands, Thor finally sees, are bruised and swollen at the knuckles, the skin split and crusted with dried blood. His always perfectly trimmed, clean fingernails have dirt and whatever else caked under them. 

His skin is deathly pale. More so even than usual.

“Loki, what’s going on?” Thor asks, suddenly afraid, moving towards the table to take a seat across from his brother.

Loki shifts farther away from his direction, hand still covering his face.

“Nothing.” He mutters. “Nothing, I just…”

“Loki,” Thor cuts him short, sitting down. He reaches forward without thought and takes hold of Loki’s wrist, tugging his hand away.

Predictably, Loki protests, trying to keep his hand plastered to his face. But Thor’s always been a good deal strong than his little brother, and he pulls the limb down without much effort at all.

Loki hisses again, turning his face.

Thor already had a sinking suspicion of what he’d find.

It does nothing to prepare him for what he actually sees.

Loki’s face is a broken mess.

What Thor had thought in the dark to be dirt or shadows of some kind, turns out instead to be deep, ugly bruising, no more than a few hours old, it looks like, all across his jaw and the left side of his face, an awful abrasion running down the entire length of his right cheekbone.

There are cuts above and below both his eyes, both of them swollen noticeably in turn. His lip is split at the bottom, dried, clotted blood crusting over the wound.

Across the bridge of his nose is an ugly gash, stretching the entire width and hideously wide.

“Jesus Christ…” Thor breaths, horrified.

“Maybe after the crucifixion.” Loki replies flippantly, lips pulling up into a forced smirk.

Thor feels sick.

Terrified and enraged and heartbroken all at once.

He feels his breath quicken, his heart pounding uncomfortably hard against his ribcage, his palms growing instantly sweaty.

He swallows thickly against the wave of a million different emotions, jaw clenching tight.

“Who…” he has to pause a moment, fingers curling into fists. “Who did this to you?” He finally manages in a contradictory calm tone.

He already fucking knows. But he needs to hear Loki say it so he can have an excuse to go over to that piece of dog shit’s house and beat the fucking son of a bitch bastard to death.

“Thor…” Loki begins, raising his trembling hands up in a placating motion, tone pleading.

“No.” Thor cuts him short, voice edged in warning. “No, Loki…” he shakes his head. “You tell me who did this to you. Right.now.”

Loki shakes his own head, and Thor sees the thin column of his throat bob as he swallows.

“I can’t Thor.” He says. “I can’t do that.”

“Loki, so help me, if you don’t tell me right no…”

“Thor, I… I can’t. You’ll want to go over there and…”

Thor can scarcely believe what he’s hearing. Can hardly grasp the horrible fear he hears in his little brother’s voice. Loki, who’s so rarely shown fear of any kind in more years than Thor can remember.

“Are you seriously trying to protect that fucking piece of shit!? Loki!” Thor’s voice rises in anger and disbelief.

Again, Loki shakes his head, and suddenly his eyes are too bright, a wet sheen coating them. He bites his lip and looks away, and Thor feels his own throat constrict at the sight.

Every instinct in him rockets off.

Loki is his little brother. He’s supposed to protect him, God damn it! And now he’s let this happen and he can’t…

Abruptly he stands from his seat, the legs of his chair scrapping loudly against the linoleum flooring.

A moment later, Loki follows him, but already Thor is heading towards the front door.

He’s going to kill the bastard. He swears to God he’s going to…

“Thor, please!” Loki is suddenly there, grabbing hold of his arm and trying fruitlessly to hold him back. “Please don’t do this!” He entreats desperately.

Thor yanks his arm free of his brother’s hold, turning on him angrily.

He doesn’t miss the way Loki flinches back from the violent movement, and for a moment it gives him pause.

“Loki, I don’t understand you. That son of a bitch beat the shit out of you! You’re my brother. And you expect me to just stand by and let that go?!”

Loki shakes his head, and Thor feels his heart sink as finally the tears which had been gathering thick in his eyes slip free, streaming down his bruised and battered face.

His brother looks away, his hand sliding from Thor’s arm.

“It’s not that Thor. It’s…” again, he shakes his head, hand coming up and wiping clumsily at his eyes. “I don’t want you getting near him Thor. He… he’s dangerous. I didn’t want to get you involved at all. I didn’t want to come here because I knew how you’d react, but I… I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I b-barely got away, and I thought he was going to k-kill me this time and…”

“Wait.” Thor reaches out, a sick dread coiling like a lead weight in his belly. “What do you mean this time?”

But Loki won’t look at him now, turning his face away.

“Loki, what do you mean this time!?” Thor presses, not willing to let it go. “He’s done this to you before.”

It isn’t a question this time. He already knows the answer.

The way Loki’s eyes close, his expression growing tight only confirms the answer.

And suddenly he remembers how stiffly Loki moved, how rigid and careful he was sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Loki, what…” he starts, but he’s cut short suddenly as his brother turns, and Thor is rendered for a moment speechless as the younger man throws his arms around him, clinging to him with desperation.

He feels Loki shudder, his face pressing hard against his shoulder, and he realizes an instant later that Loki is weeping.

It’s so completely unlike his brother, who since reaching adulthood has always been so unwaveringly reserved and closed off and withdrawn, that for long seconds, Thor doesn’t know how to even react, just standing there limply, awkwardly, until finally his brain kicks into gear, and he raises his own arms, wrapping them round Loki’s rail thin frame and holding him tight.

“Loki,” he starts.

“Please Thor.” Loki interrupts him again, his voice muffled and wet against his shoulder. “Please, just… j-just stay with me tonight. Just stay with me.” 

And just like that, all of the rage and indignation saps out of Thor like water through a sieve.

“Alright Loki.” He says softly. “It’s alright. It’s okay. I’ll stay with you.”

“Please,” Loki continues to beg, thin arms wrapping tighter. “please, just… just promise me you won’t go over there. Promise me you’ll stay.”

“I promise Loki.” Thor says, pressing his lips to his brother’s crown, kissing him gently. “Alright? I’m here with you now.”

Loki doesn’t say anything after that, only pressing his face harder against Thor’s shoulder, the tremors through his frame growing stronger as he continues to cry.

And all Thor can think of is how he let this happen to his brother. How Loki had been trapped with Thanos for over a year, and Thor isn’t stupid, despite what his brother sometimes accuses him of. He knows, if the way he’d seen Thanos treat Loki was any indication before, this abuse has likely been going on since the beginning. 

And he’d wondered why Loki let himself be treated that way.

He maybe understood better now, and he thinks the guilt might be eating him alive.

He doesn’t understand why Loki never came to him before.

For a long while, they stand there, Thor holding Loki to him, letting him cry, shushing him every now and then when he feels his brother start to grow frantic.

Until, after a time, Loki at last begins to calm somewhat, his sobs slowing to an occasional hiccup.

“Hey,” Thor starts softly, leaning back, looking down at his brother. He smiles weakly at him, knowing it’s a sorry attempt at reassurance. He can barely stand to look at Loki’s face, not with how beaten to hell it is. “How about we get you cleaned up, huh?”

Loki seems to hesitate then, looking away, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

“I… I’m alright.” He says. “I can take care of it.”

“Loki, come on.” Thor insists, taking hold of his hand and tugging him gently towards the bathroom. “Someone needs to clean out and bandage those cuts, and we need to get that swelling down.”

He feels his brother hesitate again, fighting a moment against Thor’s tugging, before finally giving in and letting himself be led.

//

The harsh lighting of the bathroom throws Loki’s injuries into stark relief, and Thor finds it even more difficult a task for him to look at his brother than before.

He orders Loki to sit on the toilet, which Loki does wordlessly and without protest.

He looks pitiful, sitting there, shoulders hunched up around his ears, like he’s trying to hide himself, clothes a rumpled mess, alabaster skin bruised black and blue and purple, the swelling round his eyes made worse from his crying.

He’s so small, Thor thinks, and again, he has to swallow against the lump forming in his throat, the sting against the backs of his eyes. 

Just imagining that bastard putting his hands on Loki, on his little brother, has Thor seeing red in an instant.

He wonders how anyone could be so damned cruel.

Loki may be tough as nails. May have an iron will. May be the bravest man Thor’s ever known, never backing down, never holding his tongue or giving up in what he believes, even when he’s been outmatched and outgunned.

His brother may be all of those things. But Loki’s strength has always been in his heart and mind. 

Physically, he’s always been a little on the frail side. He’d been sick constantly as a kid, and that hadn’t really changed as he’d grown older. He’d never really grown very strong. Never really grown out of the way those numerous illnesses impacted his constitution.

It didn’t used to really matter, because he had Thor. Built like a shit brick house Thor, Loki had used to joke. Nobody would be dumb enough to start anything with his little brother when he was around. 

When he wasn’t, well, Loki’s mouth got him into trouble more often than not. It wasn’t unusual for Loki to come home from school sporting a black eye or a busted lip.

The other kids had used to pick on him a lot.

Loki had always said it didn’t bother him, but Thor knew it did.

He used to sometimes hear his brother at night, crying to himself in his room.

But those were kids. Kids were assholes. They didn’t know any better.

But Thanos, well… Thanos was older than his brother by a good ten years. He was a man. Damn near big as Thor himself, tall and strong and muscular. 

Loki had looked like some little kid standing next to him, and when Thor had first met Thanos, he’d thought maybe it was a good thing. Maybe his brother had finally found someone other than his big brother to look out for him and protect him.

Christ, had he been wrong.

He just doesn’t understand, how someone that much bigger and stronger could be okay with hurting someone like his brother. Someone who couldn’t defend themselves. How anyone could think that’s okay.

He realizes he’s clenching his teeth, his hands curled to fists at his sides, and he forces himself to relax then, pushing the thoughts from his mind.

He’s no good to Loki like this right now.

His brother needs someone to be calm for him, to let him knows he’s safe and that it’s going to be alright.

He’ll deal with Thanos later.

Fumbling around in the medicine cabinet a moment, he retrieves the first aid kit, grabbing a few washcloths and soaking them under the sink in warm water before bringing it all over and kneeling down in front of Loki.

“Here,” he begins, pulling out some disinfectant wipes. 

Gently, he takes hold his brother’s chin, turning his face down slightly so he can have a better angle to see at.

Loki sits quietly and still as Thor begins cleaning up what he can. Washing the grime and blood away, before rubbing the wipes along all of the cuts and abrasions. 

Loki can’t quite keep his discomfort from his features the whole time, and Thor apologizes quietly for it.

Finally, he smoothes Band-Aids smeared with Neosporin over what he can. Some of the cuts look deep enough they may require stitches, but Thor doesn’t think Loki’s in any mood to go to the emergency room tonight.

“Okay,” he says when he’s finished. “I’m gonna draw you a bath, and then get you an ice pack to hold to your swelling while you soak in there. Alright?”

Loki nods mutely.

He won’t look at Thor now, and the older man can tell his brother’s falling rapidly into a depression.

“Hey,” Thor cups his cheek, bringing his face up to look at him.

Finally, Loki’s eyes fix with his own, bloodshot and bleary, and Thor thinks how exhausted he looks.

“It’s going to be okay Loki.” He says again. “I promise.”

Loki only nods again, vague and weak, before his eyes slip once more away.

Thor stands, leaning down and kissing the top of his brother’s head before moving towards the tub, turning the faucet and letting it fill.

//

He leaves Loki to it, allowing him some privacy, telling him he’s just going to go and get him some fresh towels.

Loki tells him okay, and before Thor steps out, his brother grabs hold of him again in another hug, leaning his face against his chest and telling him thank you.

Thor hugs him back, giving him another kiss on the temple and telling him it’s alright, before finally leaving him be.

There’s a fresh load of towels in the dryer, Thor’s happy to remember, and he makes sure to gather an armful of them, knowing his brother likes that.

Coming back to the bathroom door, it’s still slightly ajar, as he left it. He can hear Loki splashing around the water in there, and he knocks once before pushing the door open, sticking his head in.

“I’m just going to leave these right her…”

The words die on his tongue, turning to ash. His mouth goes instantly dry and something like horror rips through his insides at the sight before him.

Loki seems as shocked as he is, frozen and naked, stepped halfway into the bathtub and staring back at him with wide, fearful eyes.

It isn’t that which has Thor equally paralyzed though.

It’s his brother’s body.

It’s as beaten to hell as his face. Maybe more so.

There’s hardly an inch of him free of the worst bruising Thor’s ever seen. Deep, hideous swaths of dark, dark black and blue, all across his back and ribs. Wide, round blooms of the same grotesque discoloration littering the backs of his thighs and calves and reaching up over his shoulders. Even with his back turned to him, Thor knows it stretches to his front, over his chest and stomach, no doubt.

Underneath, Thor can see mottled yellows and reds and greens, older bruising just beginning to heal.

Alone it’s enough to make the older man’s stomach lurch and churn in nauseating sickness.

Only there’s something worse still then the clear evidence of numerously suffered, brutal beatings.

It’s the shapes of some of those bruises, and where they are.

Along Loki’s upper arms, along the insides of his thighs, the back of his neck, standing out sharp and screaming, are the impressions of thick, strong fingers. Fingers which had grasped and squeezed with bruising force and power. Fingers meant to restrain.

And the most damning of all, what causes a momentary weakening in Thor’s knees and the room to spin in awful circles, is the torn up state of Loki’s backside. 

He’s torn to shreds back there, blood trickling slow and sluggish down the insides of his thighs, the skin irritated and agitated to blistering red and yellow.

It’s all Thor needs to see to understand immediately what happened, and a flood of emotions so strong hits him in that instant, he nearly collapses to the floor.

“Loki,” he chokes, pushing the door the rest of the way open and stepping in.

Immediately Loki steps from the tub and turns, backing away a few steps.

He looks like some cornered, half-starved animal caught in a trap, eyes huge and shining, his frame nothing more than skin and bones.

Thor had been able to feel how skinny he was underneath his clothes. But seeing it now, seeing the prominent just of every one of his ribs, of his hipbones, the blades of his shoulders and collarbone, the vertebrae of his spine…

Christ, Loki doesn’t look like he’d have the strength to fight off a little girl, let alone a man like Thanos.

Rage and despair war within Thor’s mind for dominance. He doesn’t know what to feel. What to do.

“Thor, it… it isn’t what you think…” Loki starts, voice shaking and thin, and it’s the most blatant falsehood Thor’s ever heard come from his lips. His brother holds his hands up as if to somehow placate, and Thor feels his heart twist in agony, his face crumpling to match.

“He forced himself on you?” He cries, eyes filling instantly with tears. It isn’t a question. Not really.

“Thor, please…” Loki entreats, voice cracking, and he sounds like a child.

“How many times?” Thor goes on, stepping closer. “How many times did he do this to you?”

“Thor…”

But Thor has closed the distance between them now, and he grabs his brother, pulling him hard against him and holding him crushingly tight.

Loki chokes out in pain, but Thor hardly notices, pressing his face to the top of his brother’s scalp.

“No, no, no, Loki…” he begs. “no.” 

“Thor, please, please…” Loki sobs, voice breaking suddenly and completely as he dissolves for the second time that night into tears. Two times more than Thor has seen him cry in the last fifteen years. “Don’t leave me here tonight.” He begs, abandoning any attempt to dissuade Thor of what he already knows. “Don’t leave me. Don’t go over there. He… he’ll kill you and th-then… then he’ll kill me. Please…”

“I won’t.” Thor tells him, crying now too. “I won’t leave you Loki. I swear it.”

“Please.” Loki continues as though he hasn’t heard, thin hands clinging urgently, twisting in the material of Thor’s shirt. “Please.”

“I won’t Loki.” Thor’s hand lifts, cupping the back of his brother’s head, pressing his face to his chest. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

And he wasn’t.

He had to figure this out. Had to figure out what to do.

But he knew it wouldn’t be tonight.

Not tonight. 

Not when he’s promised his little brother he would stay.


	2. Chapter 2

Thor meets Loki’s new boyfriend purely by accident.

He’s coming out of the cafe, black coffee in one hand, scone in the other, still on his lunch break. He always gets out of the dingy little law office he currently finds himself employed by when he can. 

He finds himself questioning every day his choice to “follow in his Father’s footsteps”, and become a lawyer. He thought once he might be passionate about it, but these days, that notion is becoming less and less a certainty.

He’s just seating himself at one of the shop’s outside tables when he glances across the street and sees his brother.

It takes him a moment to realize it’s Loki, though subconsciously he knows it right away.

No one really looks like his brother.

Only normally this time of day, Loki is supposed to be meeting with his councilor.

He’d only started seeing Dr. Banner a couple months ago, and only under the combined pressure of Thor’s, as well as Mom and Dad’s insistence.

In truth, Thor thinks, Loki should have started seeing a therapist years ago, with all of his problems. From the drugs to his extreme mood swings and self-destructive behavior.

Loki’s getting arrested had been the final straw, as far as their Father was concerned.

It had been such a stupid thing too. Vandalizing abandoned property while drunk off his ass.

What eighteen year old didn’t do stuff like that? 

Loki’s mistake had been getting caught.

Thor had tried reasoning with Father about it. He was eight years older than Loki, and tried reminding Dad about how when he was Loki’s age, he’d gotten into a lot worse trouble than throwing rocks through the window of a condemned house.

But Odin wasn’t hearing any of it, and in retrospect, Thor realized he was right.

Loki had needed help. He’d been spiraling for a long time. Really since he was maybe thirteen or fourteen years old. Hanging out with the wrong crowd, smoking and drinking and taking all sorts of drugs.

His relationship with Father had deteriorated to the point that just being in the same house as one another was proving a dangerous endeavor. Tensions had been running sky high, fights breaking out between them constantly. Violent shouting matches which often ended with broken furniture and Loki running to his room and locking himself in for days at a time.

The breaking point had come when, one day, Loki had snuck into Father’s study, looking for money, and he’d stumbled across a locked box, hidden beneath a stack of folders in one of Dad’s desk drawers. Thinking there would doubtless be cash inside, Loki had easily picked the lock.

There hadn’t been any money inside.

Instead, he’d found adoption papers, dated 17 years earlier, his name plastered across the documents, followed by the name “Laufeyson”. 

Loki had absolutely lost it, Thor remembers. He’d been over that day, just visiting, talking with Mom and Dad in the living room, when Loki had suddenly appeared, eyes thick with tears, streaming down his face, contorted in rage and despair.

Immediately he’d begun screaming at Odin and Frigga, demanding answers while clutching the adoption papers in his hand.

Mom had tried talking him down, tried calming him, but nothing was working, and Father had always had far less patience with Loki then his wife.

He’d started screaming back, voice booming and overpowering Loki’s own, started calling him an ungrateful little shit and telling him had it not been for his own generosity, Loki wouldn’t have lived to see his first birthday. Wouldn’t be alive now to hate him the way he did.

And that had done it.

Loki had stormed out of the house.

Mom had been beside herself, begging Thor to go after him, which of course Thor had.

His brother hadn’t gotten far, Thor remembers. Just to the end of the street, where he’d collapsed to his knees, sobbing viciously.

Thor had done his best to comfort him, putting his arms around him and holding him close, telling him how sorry he was, telling him he had no idea. And that was all true. 

Loki had wept against his chest and gone on about how it was all so obvious now why Dad hated him. Why he’d never really loved him, and how stupid he was for not realizing sooner.

Thor had told him that wasn’t true. That while Father could sometimes be harsh, of course he loved Loki. That he just didn’t always know how to say it. 

To this day though, Thor doesn’t think Loki believed him, and still doesn’t.

His brother had begged to come live with him that night. Said he couldn’t stand another minute in that house, and Thor had told him of course.

That had been six months ago, and Loki had been with him ever since.

His brother still had a host of issues, but that was what Dr. Banner was for, and Thor liked to think the sessions were helping Loki, even if the signs of progress were slow.

Loki didn’t seem to lose his temper quite so easily these days, but still, when he did, it was like a bomb going off.

Thor wasn’t sure Loki would ever be able to scale back on that particular aspect of his personality.

In some ways, Thor didn’t want him to.

Dr. Banner had told him and their parents that Loki was suffering from a severe anxiety disorder, as well as clinical depression and possibly bipolar disorder, and that he wanted to prescribe him some medications to help modulate his mood fluctuations. 

Loki had been on the meds for a few weeks, and it had so dulled him down, that frankly it had scared the hell out of Thor. He’d barely recognized his brother, with the way he would sit there, staring vacantly ahead, eyes glazed and distant. His usually sharp wit and tongue almost entirely absent. 

When Loki had told him he didn’t like the way the drugs made him feel and wanted to go off them, Thor, knowing it was a risk, had told him alright.

Loki was sometimes erratic. He had a hell of a temper and yeah, he did get depressed sometimes. 

But Loki’s mind was also his greatest asset, and to take that away from him just felt wrong.

It left Loki in a state far too vulnerable for Thor’s own comfort.

Watching his brother now, seemingly waiting for nothing as he leans back against the brick of a one storey building, Thor suddenly sees a man emerge from the places entrance, and he feels his own eyes widen as the man approaches Loki and without warning pick him bodily up off the ground, twirling him in a quick circle. 

Loki laughs, head thrown back and hands on the man’s shoulders.

Whoever the guy is, he’s huge.

Loki’s tall, but this guy must have three inches on him, at least, and even from this distance, Thor can see he’s incredibly broad in the chest and shoulders. 

He’s wearing a tank top, his arms bulging with rippling, thick muscle. He’s got to be 250, 260, Thor thinks. And that’s natural. That’s not built up muscle too big for the guy’s frame.

Loki looks like a stick figure in his hold. All one hundred forty pounds of him.

Finally, the man sets his brother back on his feet, and Loki has his hands on the guy’s chest, staring up at him with a look of such affection and longing, Thor for a moment doesn’t even know how to characterize it.

And then the guy’s leaning down, hands on Loki’s face, pushing his head back and planting a violent looking kiss on his brother’s lips.

Thor stands up then, forgetting his coffee and scone as he starts across the street.

There’s something uncomfortable uncurling in his belly at the look of the man.

Not just his what would be for most intimidating size, but the overall impression.

His hair’s cropped short and close to the scalp, and as Thor draws nearer, he can see the guy’s got strange tattoos in swirling, indecipherable patterns running up his arms, over his shoulders and over the nape of his neck. 

He looks fucking dangerous, and there’s a sudden, almost panicked desire in Thor to get his little brother away from the man.

It’s only made worse when he sees the guy shove Loki harder than is necessary against the brick of the building and continue to assault him with his kiss.

Loki doesn’t seem to mind, but Loki’s never really known what’s good for him.

He doesn’t even notice Thor standing there until he speaks up.

“Loki.” He says.

The man instantly breaks away, turning and glaring at Thor with clear warning. Though Thor sees a brief hesitation when the man gets a load of him and realizes he’s essentially the same size. Same height, same width. Thor gets the immediate impression the guy isn’t used to encountering anyone of comparable physical stature. 

“Thor!” Loki immediately beams seeing his older brother, smile spreading across his face as he pushes off from the wall and takes a step forward.

The man suddenly puts a wide palm against Loki’s chest and shoves him back against the brick, eyes still pinned menacingly on Thor.

Loki grunts in surprise at the impact, and Thor feels his hands curl to fists at his sides, taking a step forward.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man growls, voice deep and plainly antagonizing.

Loki grabs hold of the guy’s wrist and pushes his arm away from his chest, huffing in apparent frustration.

“Thanos, stop being so jealous. He’s my brother.” He says, unconcerned, once more stepping away from the wall and towards Thor.

Thor continues to glare right back at the guy, Thanos, apparently, even as Loki barrels into him, throwing his arms around him in a hug.

Thanos watches the display with a frown of clear disapproval, but Loki seems oblivious, squeezing Thor tight before leaning back and grinning brightly up at him, eyes alight and happy.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, voice pitched with excitement.

Thor can’t remember the last time he saw his brother in such a good mood, and it makes some of the tension drain from his own frame, his discomfort easing slightly.

Finally he pulls his eyes away from Thanos and looks down at his little brother.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” He says, forcing himself to return Loki’s smile. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Dr. Banner right now?”

Loki shakes his head, at last dropping his arms from around Thor’s waist and stepping back.

“Dr. Banner had to cancel today.” He explains. “But this is great! I’ve been wanting you to meet my new boyfriend for a while! Thor, this is Thanos. Thanos, Thor!”

He turns to the guy, looking up at him, and then back to Thor, smile broadening even further.

Between them both, Loki looks even smaller and more fragile than usual, and Thor has the sudden, overwhelming urge to push his brother behind him.

But Thanos’ face is relaxing now, and what can only be described as a charming grin spreads over his face.

He holds out a hand towards Thor.

“Hey.” He says, friendly as can be. “Sorry about that. I thought you were one of Loki’s ex’s come to harass him or some such. You wouldn’t believe how often that happens.”

Thor reaches out and takes the offered hand. He doesn’t fail to notice how hard the man’s grip is, but Thor squeezes just as tightly back.

“I can imagine.” He replies flatly. 

He still doesn’t like the feeling he gets off this guy, but he seems nice enough now, and his attitude before is understandable, if he was just trying to protect Loki.

Thanos’ smile widens.

“Yeah. Loki’s quite the catch, as I’m sure you know. Good looking as he is, these crazy men just come out of the woodwork it seems, trying to screw with him.”

Loki laughs at that, giving Thanos’ shoulder a shove.

It doesn’t even budge the guy.

“Flattery wins you no favor.” Loki says, even as his cheeks tinge a slight pink.

His brother is smitten, Thor realizes. Really smitten. 

“So, boyfriend, huh?” He starts, trying to shove the unease he feels away. “When did you two meet then? This is the first I’ve heard of you.” He looks pointedly at Thanos.

“Just about two weeks ag…” Loki starts, but abruptly, Thanos cuts him off.

“Two weeks ago.” He says, talking right over his brother.

Thor waits for the scathing tongue lashing.

One of Loki’s pet peeves, if ever he had one, is being talked over, and Thor’s never known anyone to get away with it without receiving a verbal thrashing.

He’s subsequently stunned into a momentary stupor when, instead, Loki’s eyes slip away to the pavement below, and he falls entirely silent.

The unease grows.

Thanos is still smiling as he put’s a beefy arm around Loki’s narrow shoulders and draws him tight against his side.

“Saw this little beauty down at Connelly’s bar, and couldn’t resist asking him out.” He goes on, tone still effusive and friendly. “Got lucky I guess, because he said yes, even after getting a load of my ugly mug.”

“You aren’t!” Loki starts, looking up at Thanos with that same, adoring expression. “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

His brother is talking like some little kid, Thor thinks, and there’s something unsettling about it.

Thanos laughs and bends down, slapping a wet sounding kiss against Loki’s cheek.

Loki actually giggles, and Thor thinks he might be sick.

“Hey babe, we better get going or we’re gonna be late to the show.” He says.

“Oh, yeah.” Loki says. “S-sorry Thor. We have tickets to the cinema.” He looks up at him with apologetic eyes, and, Thor thinks, almost disappointment. 

Thor knows his brother well enough to know he doesn’t want to go. Knows him well enough too to know, normally, he would call the movies off if that was the case.

But he says nothing as Thanos forces him to turn in the opposite direction, and begins pressing him forward to walk.

“Nice meeting you Thor.” The man calls over his shoulder, arm still slung over Loki’s shoulders.

Loki glances back at Thor one last time, saying nothing, the same, disappointed look in his eyes, before at last turning away.

A moment later, his brother and his new boyfriend disappear round a corner, leaving Thor feeling intensely uncomfortable.

//

Thor sits, hands clasped beneath his chin, elbows leaned onto his knees as he watches his brother, asleep on his couch.

It had taken a long time for him to calm down enough to fall asleep, Thor sitting with him the whole time, holding onto his hand and telling him over and over in different variations that he was going to be okay, that he wasn’t going to leave him.

Thor can’t recall ever having seen his little brother so shaken.

And that wasn’t some small measure, given how frequently as a child Loki had used to come running into his room at night, sobbing over some horrible nightmare he’d suffered. Or how over the years of their youth, Loki had been so constantly picked on and harassed at school by other children both older and younger than him. Before Loki had learned to shut down and pretend himself unaffected by the bullying, he’d used to come home crying and shaking and just so damn terrified, until finally Mom and Dad had pulled him out of public schooling and put him into private.

Even there though, he’d gotten picked on.

Thor shakes his head of the memories, reaching forward and brushing Loki’s black hair back from his forehead, smoothing it back over his ear. His brother doesn’t stir, out cold finally, both form physical and emotional exhaustion.

Thor had tried getting him to take the bed, but Loki had repeatedly refused, until finally Thor had just agreed for him to sleep on the couch.

He wasn’t going to stick to that agreement though. With Loki’s injuries, he would only suffer worse in the morning, if he didn’t have a proper mattress to lie down on.

With that thought in mind, Thor stands, leaning down and gently as he’s able, pushing his arms beneath Loki’s still form, scooping him up a moment later. He bites his lip and swallows thickly against a tightening chest as he feels how terrifyingly light his brother is. He weighs nothing, and it scares the hell out of Thor. It makes him wonder morbidly just what else Thanos had been subjecting his brother to.

Loki had always been too skinny. But now his thinness was veering towards the dangerous. 

His brother curls inward slightly then, hands rising and fingers twisting into the fabric of Thor’s shirt, face burying against his chest.

Thor bends his head down, kissing Loki just behind the ear, before moving carefully with him towards his bedroom.

They get there without incident, and Thor continues in his tact as he lays Loki down, letting his head rest along the pillow, positioning his arms and legs appropriately before pulling the covers up to his shoulder. 

He gives his brother one last kiss, along the temple, making sure he’s okay, before switching the bedside lamp off and backing quietly out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

From there, he heads back to the living room, finding his phone lying across his coffee table.

Taking it up, he doesn’t hesitate in bringing up his contact, finding Mom’s number and hitting dial.

He prays she’s still awake, and when he hears her pick up only after the second ring, and her clear voice on the other end, he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Hello darling.” She says brightly.

Thor feels his stomach churn, knowing how in moment he’s going to destroy her good mood.

“Hey Mom.” He says. “I didn’t wake you?”

“No, no darling.” She assures him with a quiet laugh. “Your Father and I aren’t quite that old. We were just settling in for the night, getting ready to watch a film.”

“Oh,” Thor says. “That’s good.” 

And then he pauses, unsure of how to proceed.

The hesitation is enough to let his Mom know something’s up, and when she next speaks, it’s with evident concern.

“Thor, is something the matter?” She asks apprehensively.

Thor swallows, blinking rapidly against the sudden sting in his eyes.

“Mom, it’s Loki.”

He hears her sharp intake of breath.

“Why?” She starts, voice noticeably trembling. “Is he…”

“He’s fine.” Thor hastens to reassure, and he hears Frigga exhale in painful relief. “Well…” Thor bites his lip, again hesitating. “not fine. But I have him here with me. He… he’s asleep right now in my bed. Mom, he…”

“Thor, what is it?” She demands urgently. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“He’s pretty badly beat up Mom.” He finally spits out, and he can hear the tremor in his own voice. “That guy he’s been with, he’s… he’s been abusing him Mom.”

“Oh God, I knew it. I… I knew…” she trails off, tearful and horrified.

“Can you come over Mom?” Thor forges ahead. “I think… I think it would be good for him if you were here right now. I’d take him over there, but everything with Dad and…”

“I’m coming.” She cuts him off. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“What about Dad?” Thor asks nervously.

With all the issues hanging between Loki and Odin, the fact of Loki’s being gay is just another point of contention. Odin hadn’t taken the news well at all, even as Thor and Mom both had taken it in stride. Even when Loki had come out to them when he was only fourteen, and they’d all known for several years now.

Hearing about this, about Loki being abused by another man, it isn’t going to go down well with Dad at all, Thor knows.

“I’ll take care of it.” Mom assures him. “Don’t worry. Just… just keep your brother safe Thor. Keep him safe.”

“I will Mom. I swear it.”

They say their goodbyes then, Thor hanging up and sinking down onto the couch.

It’s just a matter of waiting now.

He prays she gets here soon.

And he hopes Loki won’t be too angry when he finds out he’s called her.

He doesn’t think his brother will be, once he sees Mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to everyone who’s read, reviewed and followed! I hope you’re continuing to enjoy, and again, reviews help me immensely, so if you have a chance, please leave one!


	3. Chapter 3

It’s been two months since he’s moved out of Thor’s apartment and in with Thanos, and Loki is beginning to feel restless.

Beginning to wonder if he hasn’t made a mistake.

It isn’t any one thing in particular, really. Just…lately, it feels like there’s a kind of tension between him and Thanos which wasn’t there in the beginning. 

And Thanos hasn’t been talking to him as much as he used to either. Has been snapping at him, yelling even and stepping towards him almost threateningly. Though he hasn’t at all hit him.

Loki worries maybe his boyfriend is losing interest in him. That he’s growing bored with him even.

He’s tried his damndest though, he really has. He’s been more accommodating in this relationship than he has in any other, short as that list is.

If he’s being honest with himself, Loki’s only really had one other, semi-serious relationship outside of Thanos.

And maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he’s screwing it up just from simple lack of experience.

Maybe he just needs to try harder.

Thanos is… he’s just so smart, and so good looking, and Loki knows well he’s lucky to have him. Knows that Thanos could have literally any guy, or girl for that matter, if he so chose.

The issue’s got to be coming from his end, Loki’s sure.

These thoughts running through his head, he comes walking out of their shared bedroom, and hears the television on, playing another of those mind numbing rugby games Thanos is so fond of.

He struggles and fails not to roll his eyes as he moves down the hallway, shoving his frustration away as he makes his way into the living room, where he sees his boyfriend parked in front of the TV, staring intently at the screen.

“Calm, Loki.” He thinks to himself. “Stay calm.”

If he’s going to convince Thanos that they should go out tonight and actually do something together, he’s going to have to use his charm.

Getting angry never works. Thanos just stares at him with this awful, blank expression when he does, saying nothing. 

There’s something terrifying in that, Loki thinks dismally. Just how almost… dead Thanos’ eyes get. Like he isn’t even there.

Breathing in deeply, his shakes his hands out, unsure of why he feels so suddenly nervous, forcing himself to move forward.

“Hey handsome man.” He starts as he comes round where Thanos sits.

He ignores the niggling apprehension tugging at his belly, dismissing it as ridiculous.

And to prove such to himself, he pushes through it, draping himself suddenly, invasively across Thanos’ lap, hooking his arms around the larger man’s neck, pulling himself up to plant a sloppy kiss against his lips.

When finally he pulls back, he’s got a giant grin plastered across his face, intending to seduce his boyfriend and make him laugh.

And so his heart sinks, and he’s abruptly, unpleasantly bemused when he finds Thanos’ eyes still fixated on the television screen, features utterly unchanged from their previously, passive shape.

He doesn’t even move to take hold of Loki in his arms, didn’t even try to kiss back, didn’t even crack a smile.

Loki frowns, the familiar flare of his temper threatening low in his gut. 

Fuck, what’s it take?!

“Thanos,” he begins, struggling to keep his voice calm and cheery. “darling, I was thinking we could go out tonight?”

“I’m watching the game.” Finally Thanos responds, though it isn’t at all what Loki wants to hear, his gaze still fixed forward.

Loki’s teeth clench, again forcing himself to swallow his knee jerk reaction of frustration and disgust. 

Instead, he puts on a pout, batting his lashes and burying his face against his boyfriend’s broad chest.

“Oh come ooooon.” He whines petulantly, kicking his feet where they hang over the chair’s arm. “Darling, we haven’t been out in over a week, and I’m starting to get bored. We could do anything. Anything you like. Go to a movie, go out to dinner at some really fancy restaurant, go dancing…”

At last, Thanos peels his eyes from the game, glaring down at Loki with calculating regard.

Loki grins back at him, and again, he chooses to ignore the uneasy feeling uncurling at the back of his mind. His heart beats uncomfortably against his ribcage, and he finds himself swallowing thickly at the look upon his boyfriend’s face.

It melts away in an instant when blessedly, Thanos smiles back at him, massive hand coming up and ruffling Loki’s hair.

Loki fucking hates it when he does that. When Thanos treats him like some little kid. But he’s willing to let it go for now, if he can just get something actually fun going here.

“How about we meet up with my boys?” Thanos asks, though his tone tells Loki it isn’t really a question. “They’ve got some new product. Really fine grade stuff. Though you might want to test it out for me baby.”

And just like that, Loki’s relief dies an instant death.

Thanos’ boys, as he likes to call them. Otherwise known as the Chitauri gang. And what kind of fucking stupid name is that?

Nothing but a bunch of world class douche bag hooligans. 

Every time Loki has to spend any time around them at all, afterwards he feels s somehow sickeningly unclean. Like an hour long shower would do nothing to put a dent in the filth they’ve managed to rub off on him.

And he hasn’t said anything to Thanos, because he knows it would probably upset him, but whenever Thanos isn’t looking, whenever he’s stepped out of the room or turned his back, the son’s of bitches actually have the nerve to put their hands on him. Grabbing his ass, grabbing his crotch through his pants, leaning in and sucking at his neck.

And then there’s the things they say to him, pressing their filthy lips against the shell of his ear and calling him faggot and cunt and whore.

It’s sexual harassment, and under any other circumstances, Loki would tell them to go fuck themselves.

Only they’re Thanos’ friends, and there’s something keeping Loki from doing it. Some awful feeling he gets every time he feels himself ready to snap back and give the bastards a taste of their own medicine. 

Just something that tells him it’s a bad idea…

And then there’s the drugs.

Loki’s been trying to stay off the stuff.

Ever since he got arrested for that ridiculous stunt he’d pulled, and started seeing Dr. Banner. Ever since moving in with Thor, really.

He’s been clean, and he’s wanted to keep it that way. 

He doesn’t like what the drugs do to him. The way they make him even more paranoid and anxious and constantly jacked up, needing the next fix. Doesn’t like how vulnerable they made him, truthfully. 

And he can admit that now, looking back on it.

He’d had more than one sexual encounter while high as a fucking kite which he’d deeply regretted the next morning, feeling almost… well, not just almost, feeling truly violated and taken advantage of.

He’d gone through hell kicking the habit, once he could acknowledge that the things he was doing while high, well, they weren’t so much things he was doing, but things being done to him.

And yet here Thanos was, trying his hardest, it seemed, to get Loki hooked right back on, despite Loki telling him repeatedly and often and he wanted no part in it. Thanos could do all the dope and coke he wanted. Loki wasn’t telling him he couldn’t. But that he kept, purposefully, disrespecting Loki’s own choices…

He can’t repress his mounting anger suddenly, the emotion surging like a fire to the front of his mind, and suddenly he snaps.

“I don’t want to see those assholes Thanos.” He says cuttingly, brow furrowed in clear distain. “Your friends are nothing but a bunch of crude, disgusting brutes.”

Loki braces for what he’s sure is going to be a furious reaction, feeling himself tense.

Thanos has been raising his voice to him lately, and Loki would be lying if he said it didn’t scare him half to death. He’s got a voice easily as big as Thor’s, or Odin’s. One that seems to shake the room every time he lets it loose.

Only Thor never turned that voice on him. Thor was his champion. His best friend and brother. Loki only ever saw him as almost a big teddy bear. One that would protect him always. And Odin was his father. Angry as he would become sometimes, as much as he would yell, Loki knew Odin would never actually hurt him.

He didn’t feel any such reassurance when Thanos would scream at him. None at all.

He isn’t prepared then when his boyfriend simply smirks at him, dismissive and mocking.

“Oh, my poor, pampered little doll.” He taunts, patting Loki’s cheek. “You’ve got some big talk, don’t you? But when it comes to hanging with the big boys, you fold like a fuckin’ accordion, don’t you?”

That was it! 

In an instant, Loki’s anger rages into an uncontrollable fury, his fact twisting with it.

“You know what,” he starts, unhooking his arms from Thanos’ neck. “fuck you!” He spits, leveraging himself up off of the larger man’s lap and getting to his feet. “You and those scum bags deserve each other. If that’s who you want to spend your time with, then far be it from me to try and stop you.”

He begins to walk away, fully intending to lock himself in the bedroom for the rest of the night, and Thanos can sleep on the fucking couch for all he cares.

He doesn’t make it more than two steps before he feels a vice like grip close over his wrist, painfully, crushingly hard.

A half-strangled cry slips past Loki’s lips. And then suddenly he’s being jerked backwards with enough force that he feels his feet slip out from under him, and then he’s falling, crashing down onto his back.

The back of his head collides mercilessly with the hardwood floor, and momentarily he’s rendered stunned, the world spinning fast around him.

His vision hasn’t even begun to clear before he sees a large mass shift over him, and all at once, there is an incredible weight pressing down against his own frame, an awful pressure against his chest.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows this is bad. That he has to get out from under whatever this is. And he feels his hands groping at the floor, trying to find purchase, to find someway to pick himself back up.

He’s allowed the attempt only a moment, as in the next, he once more feels the brutal clamp of thick hands round his wrists, and suddenly his arms are being stretched out above his head and pinned mercilessly down.

Pain ratchets cruelly from his wrists, down into his forearms, and he feels the abrupt, consuming fear that his bones will snap, the pressure too much.

He hears a weak whine, and realizes only a second after that it’s him.

“You privileged little shit!” Thanos hisses above him, lifting Loki’s hands and slamming them back, hard, against the ground. The impact rattles down into Loki’s shoulders, the strain worse upon his joints.

Another, humiliating whimper slips from his throat, and he tries desperately then, with every once of strength he has, to pull free of Thanos’ hold.

But the attempt is useless. He can’t begin to lift his wrists from the floor even a fraction of an inch, and he only feels Thanos’ grip tighten threateningly with the effort.

The pressure on his chest, Loki realizes then, is Thanos’ knee, digging hard into his sternum and stealing the breath from his lungs as the larger man puts more weight onto it.

Fear is like a lance through his insides, drowning him as he realizes how truly trapped he is.

It’s made only worse as he feels Thanos’ other knee move up, nudging between his thighs and forcing his legs farther apart, pressing into his groin and shifting in some crude attempt at stimulation.

Tears build instantly and rapid in Loki’s eyes, and all he can do is turn his face away, clamping his lids shut.

This can’t be happening…

This can’t be…

“You think you can call me names!?” Thanos roars in his face, breath hot and unyielding against Loki’s skin. “Think you can tell me what to do!?”

Again he picks Loki’s arms up and slams them back down, and another, pitiful whimper breaks past his teeth.

“I’ve had just about enough of your haughty, holier than though attitude, you fucking faggot twink! You think you’re better than me, just cause you come from some rich, upper class background!?”

Loki shakes his head desperately, unable to keep the tears from slipping past his still clamped lids, sliding into his hair.

He doesn’t think that. He’s never thought that. Oh God…

Abruptly he feels the pressure on his left wrist release, but he’s given barely an instant to realize it before pain explodes through his lower jaw, radiating like hot knives through the rest of his face and into the back of his skull.

His visions whites out behind his lids, and there’s a sudden, loud ringing in his ears and the taste of metal in his mouth.

And then it happens again, across the other half of his face.

Loki panics.

“STOP!” He cries. “S-STOP!” 

His voice is wet and weak to his own ears.

It does nothing to spare him.

Again and again, Thanos hits him, until nausea and pain mix together unrelentingly, the blood pouring down Loki’s throat threatening to make bile rise back up it.

He tries lifting his one free hand in defense, but Thanos only swats it away like it’s nothing and continues his assault. 

Until any strength, any fight Loki might have had in him dies away to nothing, and all he can do is try and turn away from the blows, useless as it is.

By the time it stops, the ringing in his ears is a constant buzz, and his eyes are swollen nearly shut, blood pouring warm and sticky down his brow, into his vision, the taste of it sick and hot against his tongue and the backs of his teeth. 

The pain is unending, both a sharp and dull ache, spreading through the muscles of his face, reaching its claws back into his skull, his head already pounding in a vicious migraine headache.

Over the ringing, he can hear himself, sobbing and whimpering pathetically, and he hates himself so much in that moment, he thinks he might die from it.

“If you EVER talk that way to me again…” Thanos starts, voice a hideous growl. And Loki feels his hand close over his throat, squeezing tight enough to threaten his air. “I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me, you little cunt?!”

Loki nods frantically, tears still streaming from his closing eyes.

“ANSWER ME!” Thanos roars.

“Y-yes… yes!” Loki cries, terrified.

“Hmm. Now, look at me and tell me you’re sorry.” He breathes against Loki’s face, smirk evident in his voice.

And it takes every ounce of his will for Loki to open his eyes and turn them up to the man above him, staring back at him dazed and terrorized. 

He doesn’t recognize this man. He doesn’t know who he is.

“I-I-I’m ss-sorry. I’m sss-s-sorry.” He stammers.

Thanos grins.

“Good.” He says, and Loki feels the knee between his legs press firmer into his groin, Thanos’ hands moving suddenly down to the waistband of his pants, beginning to undo the button and zipper.

And somehow Loki’s horror grows a hundredfold in a matter of seconds, as it dawns on him what’s about to happen.

“N-no…” he whines, begging. “No…”

“Now, now, little love, let’s not be that way.” Thanos says, and he’s jerking Loki’s pants down violently then, lifting him up off the floor and pulling them past his butt, past his hips, taking his underwear as he goes. “After the shit you just put me through, I think it’s only reasonable you make it up to me this way.”

Loki’s shaking his head in desperate denial. Can hear himself begging over and over for Thanos to stop, to not do this. Feels himself pushing weakly against the massive shoulders above him.

It’s pointless.

There is no stopping this. There’s nothing he can do.

He isn’t strong enough. 

He isn’t strong enough to do anything…

//

Thor practically launches himself from his seat as he hears the light knock on the front door, rushing forward and undoing the latch without even bothering to check through the peep hole, throwing the door wide.

His Mother is standing there, and a wave of such powerful relief washes through him, he can feel his entire body deflate with it, stepping forward and throwing him arms about her tiny frame, pulling her to him in a fierce hug.

She hugs him back just as determinedly, pressing her face to his shoulder.

For long minutes they stand there, just clinging to each other, sharing equally in relief and despair, until finally Thor feels his Mother pulling back, her arms loosening, and he takes that as his cue to follow.

As he does, she takes hold of his hands, her own dwarfed in his, staring up at him with a naked urgency.

“Where is he?” She asks. “Is he safe?”

Thor nods, feeling his chest constrict at the worry in her voice.

She’s always worried so much about Loki.

He remembers when they were younger, Loki especially, and Mother had always used to take Thor aside and give him quiet and firm instructions to keep his brother safe. To look out for him and not let him wander off. To take care of him.

Even when Loki had grown up enough to, most would say, take care of himself, Mother had known Loki was fragile. That even then, he would need help. Maybe would always need help. And she’d relied on Thor to provide that when she herself couldn’t.

“He’s still sleeping in my room.” He tells her. “I cleaned up his cuts and stuff as best I could, helped him take a bath and got him into some fresh pajamas. He was pretty exhausted… after everything…”

He hesitates, voice trailing off.

He doesn’t know how much he should tell her. How much Loki would be okay with him telling her.

Loki’s always been so proud. He knows it would devastate his brother, for Mom to hear that he’d been… been violated the way he had been. 

It was going to be bad enough for him, Mom knowing he’d been physically abused and beaten up.

That didn’t change the fact that Mom should know, or that she was likely to find out eventually anyway.

Only, Thor thinks, he should probably wait for Loki to reveal it to her himself. He should allow his brother what pride he has left, little though it may be.

Frigga nods, clasping his hands more tightly.

“We should let him rest then.” She says. “May I come in?”

“Oh! O-of course!” Thor stammers, feeling suddenly like an ass, keeping his Mother waiting out in the hallway like that. “Come in.”

He steps aside and allows her through, closing and locking the door behind her.

“I’ll just make some coffee.” He says, staring towards the kitchen.

She follows him there, her movements elegant and precise as ever as she seats herself in exactly the same spot Loki had earlier occupied.

Adopted or not, Loki has always resembled their Mother in the most uncanny of ways, Thor thinks, as he scoops the already ground coffee into the filter, moving to the sink after and filling the pot with water.

His Mother waits until he has the machine brewing and has sat himself down in the seat opposite her own before she begins speaking.

“Tell me what happened.” She says, softly demanding, her eyes focused intently on him.

Thor sighs, hands folded atop the table, staring down at them.

It takes him a moment to gather himself, and Mother, as ever, is the epitome of patience, allowing him that time.

Finally, he finds himself able to speak, lifting his eyes to her.

“He was here already when I got home from the office tonight.” He begins, slowly. “He still has his key, apparently.” He shakes his head, dreading to think of what might have happened had Loki failed to keep it, or if Thor had indeed gotten the locks changed for whatever reason in the last year. Where would Loki have gone? What would he have done? Surely not go back to Thanos, but…

He pulls his mind from the thoughts, forcing himself back on track.

“I found him in the kitchen here, smoking out there on the balcony. It was dark, he hadn’t turned any lights on, and I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t even realize anything was wrong until I flipped the switch on and saw his face.”

Here, Thor finds himself having to swallow, feeling the mix of rage and fear he’d earlier experienced leap again to his throat.

“He tried to hide it from me, tried to hide his face. Mom, he was so scared. I don’t… I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that scared in my life. I got pissed, wanted to go over to that bastard’s place and beat the hell out of him, but Loki was just so afraid. He begged me to stay, started crying and telling me… telling me he’d barely gotten away. Mom, it…” 

Thor shakes his head again, feeling the sting of tears at the backs of his eyes, flashes of Loki’s naked body erupting through his mind. The horrible, beaten state of him, and… 

“This has been going on for a while, I think.” He continues, voice thin. “Something Loki said, about barely getting away this time. I think that bastard’s been hurting him since the start and Loki just… he didn’t know how to get away.”

For long moments, Frigga sits, still and silent, saying nothing.

Her eyes are cast down, fixed on the table, hands folded the same as Thor’s across the surface.

He can make out the very slight tremble through them, and he knows she’s struggling to keep herself composed.

“Oh,” she finally starts. “oh, I should have never let him run off like that. I should have fought harder to keep him away from that man.”

“Mom, it isn’t your fault.” Thor tries to reassure her, reaching out and laying a hand over her own. “You know how Loki is, when he sets his mind to something. There’s no convincing him otherwise.”

“I know,” Frigga says, her voice tearful. “I know, but I… I should have tried harder. I knew that man was trouble from the moment I laid eyes on him. I knew he was dangerous. And then Loki stopped calling me, stopped calling you, and I knew something awful had happened. I just… I was afraid by pushing him, he would do the exact opposite. And he did it anyway.”

Thor’s eyes slide away from her, mouth pulling into a deep frown.

That was true. Loki had a tendency to go against the grain just for the sake of it alone. He was the real rebel in the family. Neither of them had really known how much to push when Loki had first introduced Thanos to them, and when a few months later, he’d announced his intention to live with him. They’d all been opposed to it. All known it was a disaster waiting to happen. And they’d told Loki as much. But they’d been afraid to tell him what he could and couldn’t do, knowing he would only take it as a kind of insult almost, be affronted by it and think of it as them trying to control him.

Father hadn’t had any such misgivings, telling Loki bluntly and plainly what he thought, and maybe that had been the final straw. The thing that had really pushed Loki into taking the plunge. 

“What did Dad say?” Thor asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Mother shakes her head, wiping discreetly at her eyes.

“He wanted to come over here, of course. He’ll never admit it to you aloud, but he’s been just as worried about Loki. I told him it wasn’t a good idea. Not right now. But I suspect we won’t be able to keep him away forever. He was extremely upset when he heard.”

Thor nods.

Of course they wouldn’t be able to keep Dad out of it. And Odin had as much a right to know what was going on as Mom did. But for now, she was right. Father being here would only upset Loki more.

Dad seeing Loki like this, it would destroy what little pride Loki had left, Thor was certain.

His brother had always wanted more than anything to make the old man proud.

He hears the coffee machine’s brewing peter out, and stands, moving towards it, retrieving two mugs from the cabinets along the way.

“Do you want to move to the living room?” He asks as he pours the coffee into the cups, glancing at his Mother. “It’ll probably be more comfortable there.”

Frigga gives a shallow nod, pushing herself to her feet.

“Alright.” She agrees.

They move together, silently then, over towards the ratty old couch, Thor still struggling in his mind, wanting desperately to tell Mom just how bad Loki’s situation’s really been, terrified in the same instant to say anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, massive thank you’s to all my readers and reviewers! Your support means everything to me and helps me to continue on writing! Please let me know your thoughts if you get a chance!


	4. Chapter 4

She sits at the bedside staring, silent, at her youngest, her heart heavy and broken in her chest.

Guilt eats at her as locusts through a cornfield.

She had sat in similar, uninterrupted silence, as Thor had related to her everything he knew about what had happened. And, somehow, she had kept her composure even as her eldest had himself broken down in frustrated and angry tears, crying over how he should have been there to protect his little brother. Wondering aloud how it was he could have allowed this to happen to Loki.

She had told him it wasn’t his fault. Did everything she could to console and comfort him, and explain to him that, though he felt it was his duty to protect his brother, Loki was still a grown man, and he had made his decision, and there was little else Thor could have done.

She’d refrained from telling him how she felt herself the burden of her own failure. How as a parent, there could be nothing worse to suffer then the realization that you’ve failed to protect your child.

Her own logic fails her when she looks at her baby son now.

Thor had told her of the badly beaten state he’d found Loki in, and even now, in the dim light of the bedroom, Thor’s overlarge shirt slipping from Loki’s shoulders, she can see spread across his pale skin deep and ugly bruising. 

She knows, from what Thor has told her, that it covers nearly the entirety of her youngest son’s body, and Frigga feels herself grow sick at the thought of it.

He’s curled in on himself, almost defensively, though she supposes that could be her imagination, her protective instincts kicking in. The same, she supposes, as to why he appears so horribly, painfully young to her.

Only he is young. Barely more than a child. And this shouldn’t have happened. It shouldn’t have. She should have been there, should have intervened somehow, kept Loki with her, never let him run off with that… that devil.

She’d known Thanos was a bad man the moment she’d had the displeasure of making his acquaintance. 

And she’d wanted so badly to make Loki understand, to share her thoughts and feelings with him.

Only she’d known too that, as always with her youngest, the more you told him he couldn’t do a thing, the more like he was to do exactly that. And further… further, she couldn’t remember a time seeing Loki happier. Only when he’d been a very young child, and she hadn’t head the heart then to break his. To tell him what he was feeling wasn’t real, that it wouldn’t last, and that Thanos would only end up hurting him.

Loki had suffered enough pain in his young life. He hadn’t needed yet more. Oh, but how she’d cursed the heavens for doing this again to her son. To bringing him what would doubtless be more grief and abandonment and sadness. 

He’d already had to endure being gay in a world which, despite outward appearances of greater tolerance, Frigga knew still harbored deep seeded and ugly prejudices. This coupled with Loki’s social awkwardness and difficulties, and his struggle to make any, real friends. It had been this latter situation which, despite his bright intelligence, had led to him more than once being manipulated by others pretending to like him only so later they could play some cruel joke. 

The last person Loki had been with romantically had, on their third “date”, convinced her son to go with him to a pool hall, where, unbeknownst to Loki, this other boy had had a group of his friends waiting. 

Upon their arrival, the boy had turned on Loki and made a scene of rejecting him, announcing loudly, so that everyone could hear, how he’d been pretending the whole time, that he never liked Loki at all, proceeding then to call her son numerous, derogatory names and, in plain view of him, collecting from all his friends money. Bets, apparently made over whether this boy could trick Loki into thinking they were boyfriends.

All this Frigga knew for the simple fact that she’d come home that night, not expecting Loki there until later, only to find her son sitting in the darkened living room, sobbing his eyes out. It had taken nearly an hour of coaxing from her before he’d finally confessed to her what had happened.

So, no, it had been an utterly disheartening and terrifying prospect then, to tear what happiness Loki had managed to find from him.

But she should have, she realizes, looking down at him now. Oh, she should have.

That day, when Loki had come strolling into the house, that brute of a man at his side, arm wrapped around his shoulders possessively, it didn’t take long for her to realize that the visit had been Thanos’ idea, and that in itself had been enough to set alarm bells ringing in Frigga’s mind. Odin’s too, she would later realize, when she’d had a moment alone with him.

Nobody told Loki what to do. It had been that way for a long, long time. Since her youngest had been in his early teens, really. And while it had landed him in plenty of trouble, still, Loki had always been his own person, and had never felt the need to apologize for it to anyone. He didn’t let himself be controlled. But the more time Frigga spent around him with this man, the more she could see that was precisely what was happening.

It did little to help, seeing how much bigger and stronger Thanos was, and even then, Frigga had so easily been able to picture the man overpowering her son and Loki, fragile as he was, being unable to do anything about it.

Oh, Jesus, if only she’d realized how true her worries had been. Seeing him now, beaten and battered, knowing he’d been… knowing that Thanos had… God, she can’t even bring herself to think to words, though she knows it well enough in her mind.

She should have done something. 

She’d had the power, and she just hadn’t acted. For all the moments she’d felt herself on the verge. But she hadn’t.

And for that, she thinks, she may never forgive herself.

//

Frigga feels herself pulled tense as a bowstring as she watches her youngest child across the table from her and Odin, along with that… man he’d come with. Thanos, his name was. She remembers talking to Thor about him. Thor telling her he didn’t like the guy, and it’s taken her only a few, short minutes of being in his presence to understand why.

There’s a violence which hangs about him. Something profoundly unsettling. 

She doesn’t like the way he touches Loki. Doesn’t like the way he looks at her son, the way he speaks to him.

Doesn’t like how oblivious to it all Loki seems. Loki, who is always so blindingly bright, so wickedly intelligent. And yet she can see how absolutely smitten he is with this man. How he looks at him with such adoration.

It’s almost as if her boy’s been brainwashed, and it terrifies Frigga in a way she can’t put into words.

Worse still, beyond the fact that this Thanos character is clearly much older than Loki, and that alone should be enough to dissuade any sort of romantic relationship between them, the man is also a giant. Easily as big as Thor, and Loki looks like an absolute child next to him. 

If Thanos somehow got it into his mind to hurt Loki, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself at all, Frigga thinks grimly, and all at once she feels almost nauseous with concern.

“So, how did you say you two met again?” Odin asks, his gaze fixed on Thanos with plain distrust.

Loki opens his mouth, about to answer, but Thanos immediately speaks over him.

“We didn’t.” Thanos says, grinning widely at Odin, and Frigga feels her unease grow as the giant man puts his arm around Loki’s shoulders, pulling him against him with too much ease. “I met your son at a bar. Connelly’s. I knew the second I saw him I had to have him.” His grin grows wider still, and Frigga doesn’t like the clear possessiveness in Thanos’ voice. Not at all.

Odin’s eye moves to Loki, his expression clearly displeased.

“And what were you doing in a bar Loki? Last time I checked, the legal drinking age was 21.”

Loki looks, for an instant, absolutely mortified, his eyes widening and face draining of color.

“Father…” he starts, urgency in his voice, and Frigga realizes suddenly that Loki’s probably lied about his age to this man. Told him he’s older than he is. She knows her youngest son used to carry a fake ID with him, though she has no idea where he got it. Probably the same lowlifes that used to supply him with his drugs.

Thanos laughs, loud and ugly.

“I know he’s only 18.” He says, and Loki turns towards him, his expression turning to shock, quickly giving way to fear. “But no need to concern yourself, Sir.” Thanos goes on, smooth as glass. “Loki wasn’t drinking that night. He was just there for the dancing. Your son’s a killer dancer.”

“Mmhmm.” Odin replies, flat and clearly unconvinced. “Why is it then,” he goes on, turning to stare at Thanos. “if you know how young my son is, you think it’s alright to be dating him, when you’re, what, 32, 33?”

For a moment, Thanos actually seems to waver, his smile momentarily slipping into a blank mask.

“Father, please…” Loki begins to protest, embarrassed. “it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” Odin answers quickly, again looking to his son. “This man is too old for you Loki, and after all the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into lately…”

“Odin,” Frigga puts her hand on her husbands forearm. He’s humiliating Loki, made plain by the growing dismay on her son’s face, his eyes huge and pleading. She can see he desperately wants to impress Thanos, wants this man to like him. It isn’t that she doesn’t agree with what Odin is saying. The man is too old for her son, and she doesn’t like him at all. She can see he’s a manipulator, that his act is too smooth, too charming. Something he’s obviously practiced. But she doesn’t want Loki to feel marginalized or belittled, something Odin, though his intentions are always well meaning, has a tendency to do to him, and which Loki, sensitive as he is, always feels so keenly and with devastating effect. 

Turning towards her, her husband’s expression lined with a mix of anger and concern, she tries communicating all this to him without explicitly saying so.

“I think maybe we should go talk with Loki alone for a moment.” She tells him.

It takes Odin only a moment to nod in agreement, but then Thanos’ voice breaks through.

“Why don’t you ask Loki if that’s what he wants?” He asks, and oh, Frigga could kill this man.

She knows what he’s doing. She sees it so plainly. 

The son of a bitch has so obviously gleaned in the time he’s been with Loki how insecure her young son is. How desperately he wants acknowledgement and respect and to be seen as worthwhile. To be seen as mattering. 

The bastard probably saw it in Loki the second they started talking. Brilliant as her boy is, he’s still incredibly young and inexperienced, and not half as good at hiding his emotions as he likes to think he is.

Yet the damage is already done. Turning back, she sees her son looking between Thanos and them, his expression one of such profound hope and pride, overwhelmed and joyous that someone, finally, has enough regard for him to ask what it is he wants, what it is he thinks. 

Oh, God, Frigga had warned Odin about this. About undercutting Loki when speaking to him, about making him feel inconsequential. Odin had argued back, telling her she knew well enough that Loki didn’t know how to take care of himself. That he needed someone to help him. And that was all true. Loki did need help. He was amazingly intelligent, but not in a practical way. All his brilliance seemed to be in abstract thought. Mathematics and science, numbers and equations. But ask him to make himself breakfast, or to do something simple as operating a laundry machine, and he’d be completely lost. 

If you didn’t watch him, sometimes he’d go for days without remembering to eat, or wash himself even. There were more times than Frigga could accurately recall when she’d had to go up to Loki’s room, when he was still living at home with them, and forcibly pull him from his room and away from his books, he otherwise being content to hold up there for a week or more at a time.

Still, there were ways of taking care of him which didn’t include making him feel stupid. Odin never seemed to know where that line lay though.

And this man, Thanos, had obviously tapped into that and was now using it to take advantage of and manipulate her boy, and Loki didn’t even know it.

“Loki,” she starts, hoping somehow to salvage the situation, but he’s already shaking his head, made bold by Thanos’ show of ‘ support’. 

“No,” he says. “No, whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of both of us.” He tells her, and Thanos’ grin is practically splitting his face in half.

Frigga feels sick.

“Now you listen to me boy…” Odin loses his temper quickly, half rising out of his seat and pointing a finger in his son’s face.

And that’s all it takes. Loki loses his own temper just as fast, standing up from his seat, the chairs legs sliding loudly against the tiled floor, his face twisted in rage as he glares back at his father.

“I don’t have to listen to you at all!” He snaps, voice rough with fury. “I don’t even live here anymore!”

Odin’s stood all the way by now, his imposing form seeming to tower over Loki, though Loki’s grown easily to a height with him. Still, Odin is built just like his oldest son, broad and strong.

“You are still my son Loki, and you will do as I tell you!” Odin roars.

Loki flinches back at the raised voice, a momentarily flash of fear washing over his features. Much as he’s talked back to Odin over the last, several years, Frigga knows he’s still afraid of his father.

“Odin, stop.” She takes hold of his arm again, but Odin is beyond hearing her now.

“You ungrateful little fool!” He goes on, voice near ear splitting in its volume. “You always think you know what’s best, but you know nothing at all! You have no life experience, no practicality, no sense!”

“Odin, please!” Frigga begs.

“You’ve caused this family enough grief with your delinquent behavior and bad attitude, and I won’t put up with it for another moment!”

And the look of fear turns then into one of hurt across Loki’s face, his eyes growing too bright, brow crumpling.

He shakes his head, stepping back from the table.

“You won’t have to.” He says, his voice hardly audible now. “You won’t have to deal with me ever again.”

“Loki, baby…” Frigga tries, standing herself and reaching out towards him. But he’s still shaking his head.

“C-come on.” He says to Thanos, ignoring her plea. “Let’s get out of here.”

Thanos is smiling broadly at both her and Odin as he stands, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Sure babe.” He says, standing, letting Loki take his arm and pull him away. “Whatever you want.”

//

Frigga is snapped from her memories by the sound of sheets shifting, and lifting her face, she sees Loki beginning to stir, his face grimacing in pain as he starts to wake.

It takes several, long seconds before his eyes begin to flutter open, and another, eternal moment before recognition dawns on him, gazing up at her face.

She smiles softly at him, reaching out and smoothing her hand over his damp hair, pushing it back off his forehead.

“Hi sweetie.” She says.

What happens next, she doesn’t expect at all.

His face turns, burying in the pillow underneath his head, and immediately, he begins to cry, his entire frame heaving with heavy, broken sobs.

Frigga feels her stomach drop out from under her, her face creasing into horrified worry, thinking suddenly that she’s done something wrong. Why is he crying?!

Reaching out, she puts a hand along his shoulder, smoothing it down across his back, swallowing against the awful feeling of his ribs and spine and how sickeningly thin he is.

“Loki, honey, what’s wrong?” She asks urgently, terrified. “What is it?”

He shakes his head, still keeping his face buried against the pillow, his hands coming up to his hair and fingers curling into it, forming to tight fists as he continues to weep openly.

“Loki?!” Frigga asks again, alarmed.

“I’m sorry.” He finally answers, his voice muffled and wavering badly. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby, no. No, no, no.” She tells him, her own eyes stinging with sudden tears, and she doesn’t even attempt to keep them from slipping down her cheeks. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Once more he shakes his head.

“I sh-should have l-listened to you. I should have.” He wails, another wave of violent sobs working through is emaciated frame.

Frigga continues to rub along his back, trying desperately to keep her own voice composed, knowing it will only upset him more if he hears how distraught she also is. 

“Loki, no.” She repeats. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. Okay? You just… you thought he loved you. He made you think he did. That happens… happens to so many people honey. That doesn’t make it their fault.”

“I was so ss-stupid.” Loki cries, his fingers burying tighter in his hair, and Frigga worries that he’s going to hurt himself. 

She reaches up, taking gentle hold of his wrists.

“Sweetie, let go.” She tells him softly. “It’s alright. Let go.”

For a moment, his fingers only wind tighter, tearing now at his scalp, and another, ripping sob rattles his body.

And then, without warning, he lets go, pushing himself up and turning towards her.

In the next moment, he’s got his arms thrown around her back, his face buried against her shoulder, half sitting in her lap as he continues to weep bitterly. She can feel the warmth of his tears soaking through her blouse.

“Mama…” he cries, voice cracked and strained.

She’s got her own arms around him now, holding the back of his head, her other hand smoothing up and down his back. 

“Oh God, Loki, my sweet boy…” she says, and she can’t keep the tears out of her voice now.

“He k-k-kept me l-locked up Mama.” He sobs. “He kept m-me lo-locked up in a r-rr-room and wouldn’t let me l-leave. He…”

“Oh God, my baby no.” Frigga cries, her own voice breaking apart with tears. “No, no…” 

She feels dizzy suddenly, and nauseous, like the whole world is spinning.

“H-his fr-friends kept cc-coming… they kept coming and I… I-I tried to f-fight them. I tried to… b-but I couldn’t. I couldn’t… I w-wasn’t strong enough Mama, I wasn’t…”

And she can’t help it now, can’t keep her own sobs at bay any longer as they break from her throat, her arms winding tighter about his frail frame. Because suddenly she knows… knows only too clearly what it is that’s happened to him… why he didn’t call her for almost a year… because he wasn’t able to. 

Knows sharply, with painful surety why he’s so dangerously thin. Knows now too it wasn’t just Thanos that was… was…

But she can’t bring herself to form the word in her mind. 

Vaguely, she’s aware that they’re going to have to get Loki to the ER. That they can’t treat him here, on their own. 

But she can’t think about that right now. Can’t think about anything but holding her boy tight, and keeping him safe. Keeping him safe now, knowing she’s so utterly failed in that duty already.


	5. Chapter 5

He can’t stop shaking.

Oh God, he can’t… can’t stop.

His heart pounds painfully inside his chest as he tries desperately to calm himself, to control his breathing, even as he can feel his lungs closing up, refusing to pull in air. He’s having an asthma attack. He’s… and he left his inhaler somewhere… in the nightstand, in Thanos’ bedroom. 

Oh God, God, he can’t breathe. He can’t…

A familiar panic sets in, skyrocketing into near blind terror as he finds it more and more impossible to suck in a breath. Tears spring to his eyes, and he pulls desperately, uselessly against the handcuffs which have him chained to the bed’s headboard, the sound of the manacles rattling loudly through the room.

“Please!” He gasps, voice thick and broken with tears.

He’s terrified of Thanos coming in. Of Thanos being anywhere near him now.

He thinks, possibly, he might be more terrified of suffocating. 

“Please!” He chokes out again, trying to make his voice loud enough.

Still, it seems to take an eternity before the sound of the door’s knob turning reaches his ears, and a moment later, Thanos is standing there, his massively broad shoulders taking up nearly the entirety of the entrances frame, glaring at him with a grim lined face. 

Loki feels a horrifying apprehension spike through him at the look, wondering if maybe he hasn’t made a horrible mistake. If he’s made Thanos angry, then… then…

But he can’t breathe, and he’s panicking badly.

He forces his eyes to remain on Thanos, blinking rapidly against the tears filling his vision and running down his cheeks.

“P-please,” he chokes out again. “I c-can’t… I can’t breathe. I… I need… n-need…”

He stammers to a stop as Thanos comes striding quickly into the room and towards him. Loki cowers, falling back against the headboard, curling in on himself and turning away. It does nothing to stop the coming blow, as Thanos backhands him hard across the jaw, and Loki’s world explodes in a wash of spinning light and high pitched ringing, pain radiating through his entire face, down into his neck, the taste of blood quickly filling his mouth.

He hears himself whimper weakly, and hates himself for it, unable to stop the fear which swallows him whole.

The next instant, he feels Thanos’ thick fingered hand curling into his hair, jerking his head forward, and then Loki is staring into his face, barely an inch from his own, teeth bared in rage.

“What did I tell you ‘bout makin’ a racket, huh?!” Thanos yells, but Loki can barely hear him over the rattling of his own, labored breathing and the continued ringing in his ears.

“Huh!?” Thanos tears at his scalp, jerking his head back and forth, and Loki closes his eyes, a broken sob escaping his throat.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry!” He gasps. “I’m sorry!”

“Look at me and say it!” Thanos hisses, again tearing at his scalp.

Loki swallows down another cry, forcing his eyes to open and stay fixed on the enraged face before him.

“I-I’m sorry.” He whimpers, a sharp, wheezing breath breaking past his lips a moment later as he tries frantically still to pull air into his lungs.

Thanos sneers, shoving him away so that Loki’s head cracks back against the wooded board.

For a long, few seconds, his mean eyes rake over Loki’s naked and battered form, smirking lasciviously, and Loki feels a wave of fresh horror work though his stomach, nausea and dread taking hold.

And then Thanos leans back, the smile dropping from his face, a look of disgust replacing it as he studies Loki more closely.

“What the fuck is wrong with you anyway?” He asks after a moment. “Why’re you breathin’ like that?”

Loki sucks in another, useless breath, tears swelling again in his eyes.

“A-asthma… I… I have asthma. I c-can’t breathe, please…”

“Asthma?” Thanos’ smile is back, smirking in obvious amusement. “Heh. You really are a pathetic little freak, ain’t you baby? Just when I thought you couldn’t get anymore sorry.”

Despair fills Loki’s heart, and he can only choke out another, strangled gasp for breath in response, his vision starting to blur.

“Pff, alright, alright.” Thanos waves a dismissive hand at him. “You dumb shit. Tell me where your inhaler is.”

For a moment, Loki can only sputter, trying to suck in enough breath to speak. 

It’s enough to make Thanos loose his patience, and again he’s got his hand in Loki’s hair, jerking him forward.

“Spit it the fuck out, or I’m gonna let your scrawny ass suffocate.” He snarls.

“N-nightstand. I-in the top d-drawer of your n-nightstand.” Loki finally manages to say, spurred on by panic. He knows Thanos means it. That he’ll let him die here, unable to breathe. 

Thanos scoffs, against shoving him back before standing and striding from the room.

Loki watches the entrance, the seconds seeming to stretch for hours as he waits, his chest heaving with rattling, uneven breathes.

It takes far longer than it should for Thanos to reappear, and Loki’s eyes zero in immediately on the red and white piece of plastic in his left hand. He can’t help the way he sits up, straining forward against his bound wrists, desperation making him bolder.

Thanos strides casually back over to him, standing back a few feet as he gazes down at Loki, the same, amused expression across his features.

Loki wants to beg him, but he can’t find the ability to speak anymore.

“I guess I’ll have to do this for you, what with your hands otherwise occupied.” The larger man grins, and Loki can only blink against the tears, still welling unbidden in his eyes.

“Alright, c’mere.” Thanos goes on, unperturbed. In the next moment, he’s leaning down, taking rough hold of Loki’s face, popping the cap off the inhaler with his thumb and shoving the nozzle into Loki’s mouth.

He hardly gives Loki a chance to breathe in before he depresses the cartridge, the cool, sharp taste washing over his tongue and filling his throat as he tries to hold the breath as deeply and for as long as he can.

His eyes sting with it, more tears spilling from them, and he can make it only ten seconds before he lets go, a harsh noise tearing past his lips with it.

But blessedly, it’s enough, and he can already feel his breathing starting to ease, his lungs starting to open up.

He slumps in relief against the headboard, his eyes closing and head drooping down.

Thanos tsks loudly, snapping Loki out of it.

“Look at you.” He says coldly, and whatever relief Loki had felt quickly melts away with renewed fear at Thanos’ nearness. “Little faggot. It’s a wonder you haven’t killed yourself yet, with how pathetic you are.”

Loki knows better than to talk back by now. He’s learned well enough what that will get him. And so he only looks away, feeling hideously vulnerable, all too aware of his exposed body now that he isn’t consumed by the fear of suffocation. 

Aware too of how disgusting he is, how filthy. He hasn’t been allowed to wash in nearly a month, and he knows he smells terrible.

He tries curling himself away from Thanos, drawing his knees up to his chest.

It hardly matter though. Thanos has proven enough times he can do whatever he wants to Loki, whenever he wants. And Loki knows with crushing certainty now that if he doesn’t soon find a way to escape, eventually, Thanos is going to loose control completely and kill him.

If his friends don’t get to it first.

The sheets beneath Loki now are stained with his still drying blood, from earlier, when a group of four of Thanos’ boys had come in and… and… 

Loki swallows against the memory, against the pain now surging to the forefront of his consciousness, radiating still like fire through his entire lower half. 

Oh God, he… he probably has some horrible disease now. He probably has HIV or… they’ve done this to him so many times, and…

Humiliation burns through his insides, and he can feel his eyes stinging anew, his breathes coming quicker. No, no… he can’t let it happen again. Can’t work himself up. Thanos won’t help him another time. He’ll die if he lets himself have another attack.

He’s got to get out of here. He has to, somehow… has to…

“You enjoy yourself earlier baby?” Thanos’ voice breaks through his thoughts, and involuntarily, Loki flinches away.

He doesn’t answer, keeping his face turned aside, trying frantically to keep himself calm.

He knows Thanos is bating him, trying to get a reaction out of him. Any reaction won’t end well. Either he’ll make Thanos angry or… or Thanos will use whatever he says against him in some way…

Loki wonders how it is this happened. How his own, greatest weapon, his only weapon, the only thing he could always rely on to defend himself, his words, his ability to read people, could be turned around on him so completely. How it is he became so fearful of opening his mouth at all.

He feels Thanos lay a heavy hand on his shoulder, kneading painfully into it with his meaty fingers, and when Loki cannot help another, violent flinch, the larger man laughs, the sound grating and ugly in Loki’s ears.

“Relax princess.” He goes on, reaching his other hand forward, brushing a lock of Loki’s greasy, sweaty hair out of his face with mocking gentility. “You’re so tense.”

Loki can’t stand this. He can’t do this. He suddenly wants his mother. Her face is in his mind, smiling kindly at him, and oh, oh God, he wants her so badly.

He can’t help it then, can’t stop himself from sobbing out harshly, or the words from pouring past his lips, blubbering and pathetic.

“Th-Thanos please, p-please… l-let me call my mother. L-let me speak to her, please!” He begs, turning towards the other man. “I-I-I p-promise I just want to tell her I’m alright. I… I just want to talk to her.”

Thanos is regarding him closely, his face an unreadable, blank mask, and again Loki is reminded of his inability to tell what he’s thinking, to get past him in any way, when always he’d prided himself so much of being able to do so with seemingly everyone else.

Long seconds pass, and Loki’s heart thuds painfully against his ribs, his throat feeling tight as a mixture of fear and hope swirl sickeningly in the pit of his stomach. Thanos seems like he’s actually thinking about it. Actually considering… Maybe, Loki thinks, though somewhere in the back of his mind he knows it’s a foolish mistake, maybe Thanos isn’t so cruel as he’s been. Maybe he’ll grant Loki this one kindness, this one…

And then Thanos laughs, shaking his head, and Loki feels his hope shatter like so much glass.

“What do you take me for, boy?” He asks. “Do you think I’m stupid? You’d only try and tell her where you are. Try and get her to rescue you, like the pathetic little child that you are.”

Loki shakes his head frantically, tears streaming down his face.

“No.” He protests weakly. “No, I… I…”

Quick as a snake then, Thanos lashes out, grabbing hold of Loki’s jaw, fingers digging into the flesh of his face and jerking him closer. Loki cries out, eyes squeezing shut against the pain.

“Now listen here, bitch.” Thanos hisses, pressing his lips against Loki’s ear. “You’ll just shut up about all that right now. Got it? Unless, of course, you’d like another ass whippin’? You know me, princess, I could bat your scrawny ass around all day and never get sick of it. So, what do ya say? You still want to call mommy?”

He pulls back, staring Loki hard in the face. 

Urgently then, Loki shakes his head no, and Thanos grins cruelly at him.

“That’s a good girl.” He says, slapping Loki lightly across the cheek. “Because I’ve got a surprise for you tonight babe. Let me ask you something. You ever made it with a woman?”

For a moment, the words hardly register to Loki, as he sits staring, agape and with wide eyes.

“Naw, you’re too much of a fag to ever have touched a chick. Well, guess what sweets, tonight’s your lucky night. I’ve got some real nice sluts comin’ over, and oh, they’re gonna take real good care of you.”

Loki feels sick. He feels like he’s going to throw up. He doesn’t’… he can’t…

“Oh, don’t look so scared dollface,” Thanos goes on soothingly. “Look at it this way. Since you’re such an obvious mama’s boy, when these bitches have got you pinned and are ridin’ you hard as a horse, you can just picture your sweet mama’s face. I bet you’d get off real good on that, wouldn’t you?”

In an instant, Loki’s horror and fear drains away, replaced instantly with hot, blazing fury. He’s blinded by it, it surging up into his throat and nearly choking him it its intensity.

Without thinking, he lunges forward, a roar ripping from his throat, wanting suddenly, desperately, to tear Thanos limb from limb.

But he’s only jerked back hard by the cuffs round his wrists, the metal cutting sharply into the thin skin, even as Thanos stands swiftly to his feet, stepping back completely out of range and laughing wildly.

“Your so fuckin’ easy.” He barks, shaking his head. “Stupid little cunt.”

Loki can’t even find the words to reply, can’t think of anything to say. Only pulls and tugs uselessly against the manacles, another, anguished cry breaking past his lips.

And still he continues to scream so, long after Thanos has left him behind, and locked the door shut behind him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thor can barely stand this.

Can hardly hold himself still.

They’re at the ER which, after letting Loki sleep for the rest of the night, Frigga and him both had finally managed to convince his brother needed to happen. Loki had been beyond reluctant at first, nearly begging them not to go. At one point, he’d against started crying, and it had become just too much for Thor. He’d had to leave the room, holing up in his own for nearly half an hour.

He just wasn’t used to seeing Loki cry. Not like this, anyway. That, on top of just having to look at Loki, to see his beaten up face, made infinitely worse in the natural sunlight coming through the kitchen windows, and how rigid his movements were, how obviously in pain he was, it left Thor almost breathless with both despair and rage.

He keeps finding himself torn between wanting to go out there and find that piece of shit bastard Thanos and tear him limb from limb, and wanting to stay by Loki’s side and just… just do whatever he can to comfort him, little though that seems right now.

When Mom had come into his room earlier, telling him Loki had finally agreed to let himself be taken to see a doctor, they’d had a few minutes alone, and she’d told him… told him about last night, when Loki had woken up and confessed to her that it hadn’t just been Thanos who’d… who’d forced himself on him. That it’d been all of the fucker’s friends and even… even women, Loki had told Mom. Hired hookers, and, God, Thor can’t even bring himself to imagine it. It makes him sick, makes him want to scream and rage and break everything in sight to pieces.

Making all of it worse is the fear. He feels almost dizzy with worry now that Loki might have some sexually transmitted disease, on top of everything else. On top of the trauma his brother has suffered, which Thor can’t even begin to comprehend.

He’d been shocked at first when, arriving here, Loki had asked Mom and him to come in while he was examined. Loki had always been such a private person. But, as he’d looked at his brother, tears streaming silently still down his black and blue and cut up face, Thor had thought he’d understood better why.

Loki didn’t want to be alone. He was terrified still. And that realization had only torn at Thor further, realizing how Loki must have been alone at his apartment for hours before he came home last night. 

How his brother had managed to pretend such calm at first, Thor doesn’t think he’ll ever know.

Sitting here now, while a Dr. Strange examines his brother closely, Thor feels like he’s going to tear out of his own skin.

He can’t even imagine what Loki’s feeling.

His brother is strangely calm, though the tears continue to slip sporadically from his eyes, trailing down his cheeks, and he keeps wiping them away, even as he keeps his gaze locked on the doctor. 

There’d been a bathroom which Loki had been allowed to use to change out of his clothes and into the open backed gown they always gave you in places like these. 

When he’d come out and struggled a moment to lift himself onto the exam bed, the gown had split open, and a flash of his torn up backside had been exposed.

Mom had half choked on a gasp, trying to swallow it down before Loki could hear, though Thor doubted she’d managed that, before burying her face against his shoulder. Thor had been unable to do anything but put his arm around her and hold her tight, his own face set in a grim and tight jawed mask.

Right now Dr. Strange is feeling along Loki’s scalp with his fingers, and Loki is sitting as still as he’s able, eyes fixed over the doctors shoulder, not looking at anything in particular. 

Thor thinks he likes the doctor. He’s being incredibly gentle with his brother, and has a soft spoken, almost soothing voice and manner. Though there’s something about him, Thor thinks. He’s incredibly upset, furious, Thor would even say, about Loki’s condition. He’s doing a good job of keeping that in check, but it’s there.

Thor can’t blame him, and he’s grateful for the doctor’s sympathy, that it doesn’t seem false, and that clearly Loki isn’t just another faceless, nameless patient that he needs to get through during his shift. The man cares, and that means a whole lot.

A few times, as Dr. Strange moves his fingers along his scalp, Loki flinches and hisses lowly.

“Sorry.” The doctor apologizes each time, and Loki simply shakes his head that it’s alright. The tears continuing to slip from his eyes say otherwise.

“You’ve got some pretty nasty bumps and abrasions all along your scalp.” Dr. Strange goes on after a few minutes, taking a pen and clip board and writing something down. 

Loki doesn’t say anything, but Mom speaks up, her hand clasped almost painfully tight round Thor’s own.

“Does he have a concussion?” She asks, and Thor can feel her shaking.

“He might.” Dr. Strange answers without looking at her, finishing what he’s writing and then placing the pen and clipboard down, removing a pen light from his coat pocket.

He gently puts his hand underneath Loki’s chin.

“Tilt your head up for me a little please.” He says, and Loki does as he asks without protest as the doctor shines the light into his eyes, looking into each one carefully. After about a minute, he replaces the light and holds up a finger in front of Loki’s face. “Alright. Follow my finger with just your eyes, okay?”

Loki nods and again does as he’s told, following the movement of Dr. Strange’s finger as he moves it left and then right, then up and down.

“Okay. Good.” Dr. Strange says, again taking up the clip board and writing. “I don’t think he has a concussion, but I’d like to take an MRI, just to make sure there’s no real damage to the brain. His vision seems good. And so do his reflexes. So I’m not too worried.” He reassures when he glances at Mom and Thor, clearly seeing their concern. “It’s just a precaution.” 

Mom nods, her hand tightening in Thor’s.

Turning back to his brother, Dr. Strange removes the stethoscope from around his neck, putting it on and stepping closer. Again, Loki holds himself still as the doctor reaches past the collar of his gown, pressing the cold metal of the instrument to his chest. 

“Take a deep breath for me.” He instructs, and Loki does so, his face lining in pain as he does. “And let go.” Strange goes on.

Moving the stethoscope around, they continue the process for a few, long seconds, before the doctor moves to Loki’s back, and they go through the same routine.

“Okay.” The doctor says, removing the instrument from his ears and again writing along the note board. 

“He… He has asthma.” Mom informs as he’s doing this, and Dr. Strange nods, even as Loki looks slightly embarrassed, finally turning his face down.

“Good to know.” The doctor says. “His breathing is a little labored right now.” He goes on, looking to Mom, and then back to Loki. “But I think that has more to do with him having some cracked ribs. Again, I’m gonna have to take an x-ray to be certain, but I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh God,” Mom chokes out, her voice cracking with emotion. Thor pulls her tighter against him.

“It’s okay Mom.” Loki says, smiling wanly at her, the expression failing to reach his eyes. “It’s okay.”

“Oh, my baby,” she says back, and there are tears in her own eyes now. “you’re being so brave.”

“He is.” Dr. Strange agrees. “Loki, you’re being really brave. And I’m gonna need you to be brave for a little while longer here. But I’ve also gotta ask you to make a decision.” For a moment, the doctor pauses, and Thor feels his nerves jump. “I’m going to have look at your body Loki, but it’s up to you whether you want your family to stay while I do that or not.”

Loki nods, but Thor can’t help but notice his face looks suddenly strained and worried, his emotions apparent in a way which isn’t at all regular for his brother. For a long, few seconds, Loki glances down at his lap, his hands over his knees, tightening and loosening. He seems torn, unable to decide.

Mom must see it too, because she speaks up a moment later.

“It’s alright whatever you decide Loki.” She tells him reassuringly. “If you want us to go, we will. If you want us to stay, we’ll do that to. There’s no wrong choice here.”

Again, Loki nods, but he still isn’t looking at either of them.

And finally, after nearly a minute of tense silence, Loki says, in a voice barely above a whisper…

“C-can you guys stay?” He glances up at both Thor and Mom, and his eyes are so afraid, it nearly makes Thor burst into tears then and there.

Mom saves him from having to respond.

“Oh, my darling, of course. We’ll stay. We’ll be right here the whole time.”

“O-okay.” Loki nods, another, weak smile tugging at his lips. “Okay.” He looks back to Dr. Strange.

“Alright then.” The doctor replies, calm as ever. “If you’re sure?” He asks Loki a second time, staring him hard in the face. Loki again nods.

“I’m sure.” He says, though his voice wavers slightly.

The doctor nods in return.

“Alright.” He goes on. “So, I’m just going to slide this gown down off your shoulders and take a look at your upper body first. Alright?”

Loki nods once more, looking increasingly nervous, but Dr. Strange takes it as affirmation to proceed, reaching out and pulling the loose held fabric away, letting it pool at his waist, exposing Loki’s torso in the harsh lighting of the examination room.

Thor’s already seen the damage in his own bathroom, but Mom hasn’t yet, and he can feel her stiffen, tight as a bowstring, at his side, her hand once more squeezing down on his, and it shocks him almost, how crushingly strong those small hands can be. 

Loki is skeletal. His ribs poke out with grotesque definition against his pale and battered skin, his collarbone the same, his stomach sunken and concave. He’s so obviously been starved, and it makes Thor’s guts churn. Makes him feel dizzy. It’s like he’s realizing for the first time that Loki’s been tortured. By any true definition of the word. For a year, he’d been tortured by that sick fuck and Thor hadn’t been there to protect his brother at all.

The bruising and contusions have gotten worse, deeper and uglier shades of black and blue overlaying older damage, and Dr. Banner is silent, his face grim, as he moves round Loki, examining him closely, being gentle as he runs his hands over his body, feeling each area. Loki tries to keep still, though his face in lined in pain and he can’t keep himself from flinching and gasping as Dr. Banner presses his fingers into particularly tender spots.

The doctor mutters apologies as he goes along, absorbed in his task.

After a few minutes of this, Loki is hunching in on himself, his shoulders a tense line and raised, his forehead broken out with sweat, his hands curled over the bed’s edge.

“Alright, I’m gonna need you to lay back for me here Loki.” Dr. Strange instructs. “Just scootch back a little. There you go.” He puts a hand on Loki’s shoulder and helps to ease him onto his back then, along the bed.

Loki’s chest is rising and falling more rapidly then before, and Thor doesn’t know if it’s from fear or from pain. Probably both.

Dr. Strange seems to notice, taking careful hold of Loki’s hands where he’s folded them over his stomach, laying them at his sides.

“Just try to relax, okay?” Dr. Strange tells him.

“O-okay.” Loki replies, voice audibly shaking now. 

The gown Loki’s wearing is still bunched up around his waist, covering his lower half.

“You’re doing really well Loki.” The doctor continues to encourage him as he begins erecting the bed’s stirrups. “Now I’m gonna need you to put your feet up in these things so I can check you out downstairs. Alright?”

Loki lifts his head slightly to see what the doctor means, and nods silently. His eyes are over-bright again, fresh tears forming in them.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Dr. Strange goes on, and a moment later he’s taking hold, first of Loki’s right foot, then his left, placing the heels of them in the stirrups. 

Loki’s hands at his sides have formed into fists, his breathing still shallow and erratic, and Thor feels Mom burying her free hand into the material over his shoulder, her fingers digging and pulling at it nervously. She’s scared, and he understands. He’s scared too.

Loki must be most terrified of all.

“Okay, I’m just gonna lift this up over your knees so I can get the best look. Alright?” Dr. Strange is talking again, taking hold the gown in his hands, and Loki gives a jerky nod, saying nothing as he keeps his eyes fixed on the ceiling overhead.

A moment later, and Loki’s entire lower half is exposed as the doctor folds the hem of the gown back. Thor’s brother is for all intents naked, and Thor feels suddenly somehow wrong sitting there, watching this.

Feels like he’s invading his brother’s privacy in the worst sort of way, when Loki’s always been so protective about himself, always so private. Thor remembers times when they’d gone to the beach together and as a family, or the pool, and Loki wouldn’t even take his shirt off in front of anyone.

Now Thor can see his brother’s penis, lying limp against the paper covering the table, and the whole of his butt. Can see the hideous and terrible bruising and abrasions and swelling all around Loki’s crotch and anus, and Thor thinks he’s going to be sick. He doesn’t think he can sit here. 

And yet it feels like a betrayal as he finds himself turning away, burying his face against Mom’s shoulder. Loki had asked them to stay, because he was scared, and yet Thor can’t even hold the courage to look. This happened to Loki, to his little brother, and Thor’s too much of a coward to look.

He hears Dr. Strange say something to Loki about needing to look inside him. Something else about taking tissue and DNA samples. Hears him give a warning that it’s going to be uncomfortable. He thinks he hears Loki choke out a confirmation. But he can’t look. Can barely think over the hurricane raging inside his own head.

He knows something’s happened though when he hears Loki gasp out, followed by a half swallowed sob. Thor’s head snaps up, looking to his brother, and he sees Loki’s covered his face with a hand, his breathing heavy and labored, his whole frame trembling.

That’s when Mom lets go of him and stands, moving without asking towards Loki until she’s by his side, grabbing hold of his other hand and holding it tight. Thor sees Loki’s fingers close over her own, though he’s still got his face covered, and Mom starts shushing him and telling him it’s alright, that he’s doing so good. Loki doesn’t respond except for another, strangled sob escaping past his lips.

He’s crying, and Thor feels his own eyes sting with tears, blinding him a moment later as they spill down his cheeks.

“Almost done kiddo.” Dr. Strange says. “Your Mom’s right. You’re doing really good.”

And that’s all Thor can take. 

Abruptly, he stands, feeling queasy and dizzy.

“I… I’ll be right back.” He stammers out. “I’ll be…”

That’s all he can manage as he turns, stumbling out the exam room door and into the hallway, hearing the door close shut behind him.

He lets loose a gasping breath, slumping a moment later against the wall, head bowed and eyes closed.

Immediately he hates himself for the relief he feels. He’s just abandoned his baby brother when he needed him most, for Christ’s sake!

It was just… he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t look, couldn’t listen as Loki went through that, though something so invasive and awful and…

“Thor.” 

His head snaps up, and standing right in front of him, looking halfway between fury and exhaustion, is his father.


	6. Chapter 6

"D-Dad?!" Thor stammers, eyes wide. "W-what are you doing here?"

Father gives him a withering, disapproving look.

"Your mother called me." He answers flatly after a moment.

"O… oh." Thor replies stupidly, feeling his face flush slightly. Even still, Odin has a way of making him feel like a foolish child.

"Where is he?" Father presses, glancing over Thor's shoulder, to the door of the examination room.

"Uh…" Thor hesitates, a sudden, unwelcome apprehension tightening in his chest. "He's, um, he's being…"

Odin practically growls in frustration, a familiar, stormy expression flitting across his features.

"Where is my son, Thor!?" He snaps, voice rising.

Thor flinches back slightly. It's ridiculous, he thinks, how intimidating Odin still is to him. He's bigger and stronger than his father now, several inches taller and, though he knows Dad's still strong as an ox, Thor's both broader in the shoulders and chest. It hardly seems to matter though.

For Loki it's even worse. The relationship between him and Dad has always been contentious, even when Loki was a little kid. But it had only grown more so over the years. Thor knew Father loved him and his brother both, and understood well enough that Odin's sometimes cold, stern manner didn't mean he didn't feel that love or affection for them. Thor had always been better at taking their Dad's criticisms and scolding's in stride, because he'd realized it was only because Odin cared.

But Loki… Loki had never taken it well.

He'd always been infinitely more sensitive than Thor. Had always felt things so deeply. Always taken every word and action to heart.

It had been a vicious cycle, for the way Loki would always be so profoundly impacted by their father's criticisms, and how it would only frustrate and anger Odin more. And then he would thoughtlessly plow ahead, thinking somehow he could force Loki out of the way he was by being meaner. That he could snap Loki from his hurt feelings by dumping more of what had hurt them in the first place onto his head.

Father was one of the smartest people Thor had ever known. Yet when it came to his youngest child, he'd never had any clue at all about how to talk to him, how to treat him.

He'd always expected Loki to be like Thor, for both of his son's to be like him. And when Loki turned out to be nothing even remotely similar to either of them, Odin hadn't known at all how to react to that. And so he'd reacted by trying to force Loki into something he could understand, something he could relate to. And, in turn, Loki had shoved back, growing more and more rebellious by the day, angry and hurt and heartbroken over being made to feel like his own father hated him for who he was.

Thor hadn't even understood any of that until Loki had one day told him so, bluntly. Hadn't realized his brother felt that way, that Loki believed so utterly that Odin despised him. When Thor had tried denying it, had tried assuring Loki that no, their father loved him just as much as he loved Thor, Loki had only laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

And Thor could hardly blame his brother for feeling that way.

Odin hadn't exactly done much in the last, several years to instill any kind of confidence in Loki on that front.

When Loki had come out to them, had told them all he was gay, Odin had first flown into a rage, screaming in Loki's face and accusing him of playing a game, of pretending to be gay simply because he knew it would piss him off. Loki, Thor remembers, had been at a complete loss for words. One of the few times he ever had been. And then, of course, his brother's own temper had kicked in, and he'd started screaming back at Father, calling him a bigot and prejudiced. The whole thing had devolved from there, until Mom had stepped in and broken it up.

She'd yelled at Odin, aghast at his behavior, and demanded that he apologize to Loki, trying to explain to him that it was hard enough for their son, to have come out to them, to have admitted to being something which simply wasn't as accepted in the world.

Father, stubborn as he was, had initially refused, and had further refused to speak to Loki at all over the next two weeks.

Eventually he'd calmed down, and had told Loki he was sorry, and that he was alright with his son being gay. But by then the damage had already been done, and Loki, though he'd accepted the apology, had found himself on even more precarious ground where their father was concerned, the relationship between them deteriorating only further.

It was why, now, Thor finds himself hesitant to actually tell Dad where Loki is, though he knows, realistically, he really doesn't have a choice.

He's just worried that when Odin sees the state Loki's in, sees what's been done to him… he's going to react badly. Thor knows that. And so often Father's kneejerk reactions end up hardest on Loki. His initial anger always directed at his youngest son.

Thor swallows, seeing Dad's impatience mounting.

"He's being looked at by the doctor." He finally answers, trying to keep his voice steady, though he knows Dad must have noticed his tearstained face.

"In there?" Odin asks, eyes flitting to the door behind him.

"Yes, but…" Thor starts, but Father doesn't wait for him to finish.

He brushes past Thor, already reaching for the door's handle by the time Thor starts turning around.

"Dad, wait!" He tries, but it's too late. Odin's already turned the handle and is pushing the door open, stepping through.

Thor feels his heart pound in panic as he hurries after, already bracing for whatever screaming match is about to ensue.

Stumbling after Odin, the relief he feels at seeing Loki sitting up on the examination table, his lower half covered now by the gown, is almost overwhelming. Though Loki's torso is still bare, the hideous bruising exposed and stark under the harsh lights of the room.

Gaze snapping to his brother, Thor sees Loki's own eyes go round as saucers as they fix on their Dad, a look of plain fear naked about his features.

"Odin," Mother steps forward, her own expression startled. "honey wait."

But Odin is frozen where he stands, staring fixedly at Loki, eyes shifting over his beaten form.

The moment seems to stretch an eternity, father and son gazing back at one another, motionless and silent.

And then Loki is scrambling, hands shaking uncontrollably as he tries gathering the gown pooled around his waist and pulling it back up over himself. He's struggling to do even that, his fingers spasming and unable to grip the material.

"Loki." Odin says, his voice coming out a strained choke.

And in the next instant, he's moving.

"Odin, please!" Frigga half shouts, reaching out for him, but it's as if he doesn't even hear her, striding right past and towards Loki.

Thor feels his breath catch, his stomach dropping in sudden fear.

Father is to Loki in a moment, and Loki flinches back at his approach, turning his face away and squeezing his eyes shut, as if he expects Odin to hit him.

For a horrible instant, Thor thinks he may too.

But then Odin is throwing his arms around Loki's still naked shoulders, pulling him against his chest and burying his face to the crown of Loki's head.

"I'm sorry." Father chokes out, his voice thick. "I'm sorry."

Loki sits motionless, face drawn and shocked as Odin continues to hold him tight, speaking continued and urgent apologies into his hair.

Until, at last, Thor sees Loki's entire face crumble, his eyes filling fast with tears, escaping down his cheeks, and he's reaching up, still shaking hands burying in the lapels of Odin's suit, clinging desperately.

"Daddy." He cries brokenly, pressing his face against Father's shoulder.

"I know." Odin says waveringly, reaching a hand up and cupping the back of Loki's head in a large palm. "It's alright my boy. I know."


	7. Chapter 6

Loki can't hear for how loud the pounding of his heart is in his ears. Nor can he catch a breath, sucking air in sharply through his open mouth. He feels queasy, like he's going to vomit, his legs shaking and weak beneath him.

Frantically his eyes move round the space, searching desperately for anything, anything he can use as a weapon. Until, at last, his gaze lands on the fireplace, and the small, iron shovel, racked alongside the poker.

He nearly sobs as he stumbles towards it, painfully aware of how little time he has.

He can hear Thanos out in the foyer, still talking to his parents.

Over the past, two weeks, the older man had ceased striking Loki across the face, and Loki had found himself wondering with paralyzing dread what the reason for it was.

He hadn't found out until tonight, when Thanos had, for the first time in literal months, dragged him from the room which served as his prison, and told him to get dressed in one of his own suits.

Loki had known better than to question why, simply doing as he was told, and Thanos had grinned at him, petting his face and hair with mocking gentility as he'd finished, telling him he was 'beautiful'.

He'd gone on to explain that his parent's would be coming over that night, and that he needed Loki to look normal. For their relationship to appear normal. Whatever swell of hope Loki had felt at the prospect of someone finally coming who could help him, who could rescue him from this living nightmare, had faded quickly as Thanos' momentarily kind hands had gripped Loki's face in a crushing hold, nails digging into the skin along his jaw.

"If you do anything, say anything, give so much as a look to tip them off," he'd hissed against Loki's ear. "I'll tear that scrawny little cock of yours off and shove it up your own ass. Understand, faggot?"

Loki had nodded frantically, struggling against fearful tears, knowing as he did that Thanos wouldn't hesitate for a moment to follow through on his threat.

But as the evening had worn on, Loki having to sit beside Thanos on the couch, the larger man's arm round his shoulders, trying to cover his own, wretched terror in front of an older man and woman who, Loki had quickly realized, knew nothing of their own son's sickness and depravity, he had realized too that this was truly his only chance. That he likely would never be presented another opportunity like this to get away, to escape with his life. Thanos letting him out of the room again wasn't something he could rely on, and he knew, with the increasing violence of the beatings and… and violations, he wouldn't last much longer. He couldn't make it another year. Another week even. And he'd known then it left him with no other choice but to take it.

Despite Thanos' having refrained from hitting him 'cross the face the last, two weeks, still there were fading yellow bruises along the bridge of his nose, under his eyes and along his jaw line. The mother had noticed it and asked about it, and Loki had found himself absolutely frozen. Paralyzed with dread.

He'd stammered a moment, certain Thanos was going to tear him to pieces for it, whether in front of his parents or later, he didn't know.

But then Thanos, with the same, easy charm and confidence which had ensnared Loki to begin with, smiled and laughed, leaning in, pressing a kiss to Loki's temple, explaining to his parents that his boyfriend was "accident prone" and had run into a glass door a few weeks back.

It had taken every ounce of Loki's will not to burst into sobs then and there, holding himself still and silent as possible, praying his face didn't reveal the absolute horror he was feeling inside.

Thanos' parents, of course, had believed him completely, and offered their sympathy to Loki, asking with customary politeness if he was alright.

Loki hadn't been able to offer more than a jerky nod in reply, and Thanos had offered up some other excuse for his quietness, saying he was extremely shy.

It had been near impossible to make it through without throwing himself at the feet of the man and woman, begging them to save him. Logic had dictated to Loki that, if he were to do so, he would only endanger their lives too. Thanos was mad. It wouldn't be beyond him to hurt his own parents.

But Loki had known too, as Thanos had taken them from the living room to see them from the house, it was his only moment. He needed to act and act now.

That conviction makes it no less terrifying as he takes up the shovel from the rack, his hands sweaty and shaking as he grips its short handle.

Loki would grab the poker, but he doesn't want to kill Thanos. He just wants to get away. The shovel has weight to it, which is good. But Thanos is so big and strong, and Loki knows with awful certainty that if he doesn't hit the older man exactly right, it'll be over, and he'll be good as dead. Thanos will kill him if he fails. He knows that.

Stumbling over to the wall, pressing himself flush against it, beside the living room entrances' threshold, he waits, gripping the shovel in both hands. He's trying to remember what Thor had taught him once about the right way to hold a baseball bat.

He'd always been hopeless when it came to any kind of sports. Had always been so physically frail. Thor had always done his best to include him, endlessly patient as he'd tried showing Loki how to throw or kick a ball, swing a bat, how to swim and climb and jump. Loki had always felt like he was letting his big brother down, for how bad he was at everything, but Thor had never belittled him for it, had never made fun of him. Not like some of Thor's friends growing up…

Oh, God, he wishes Thor was here now. If Thor was here, he would take care of Thanos no problem. He would protect him, and take him from this place, and everything would be alright. It would be…

He tenses, his mouth going dry as he hears the front door finally close, hears Thanos bolting the locks and putting the chain back in place, aware now that his window of time has just gotten even smaller.

There's a few, long seconds before any further sound emits forward, and Loki thinks Thanos must be waiting for his parents to pull away.

But then he hears the man's heavy footfalls, moving closer, and Loki thinks he may pass out from the fear, his head beginning to spin once more, his knees like Jell-O, trembling and weak.

Oh God, Oh God, what if he can't do this? What if he misses completely? What if his blow isn't hard enough to put Thanos down? He realizes in an instant he hadn't really though any of this through. Thanos is a giant, nearly, if not as strong as Thor. He's felt the power in the older man's hands alone, holding him down like he was nothing, like he was a child. Loki thinks he must have been out of his mind to think for even a moment this would work. To think he could have any success against such a man, when he himself has never even been of average strength, when he's always lagged so pitifully behind his peers and even kids younger than him when it came to physicality.

Only there's no going back now. If he does, he's dead, either way. Today or a week or a year from now, it doesn't matter. He has to try. He has to.

And so he braces himself, his breaths loud in his ears, heart pounding painfully against his ribs.

It's pure instinct which kicks in as Thanos rounds the threshold's corner, and Loki doesn't give himself a chance to think as he brings the iron shovel round in an arc, swinging with every ounce of strength he has.

The shove's head slams against Thanos' temple with such force, that it sends violent vibrations through the thing, all the way to the handles and into Loki's arms, the cracking sound almost deafeningly loud, sickening as it explodes through the space.

For a moment, Loki doesn't know what it is that's happened. Only that he's staring at empty air where Thanos had been a moment before.

And then it hits him like a lightening bolt, his eyes going wide, heart pounding only more painfully as he looks down, and sees Thanos on the floor, groaning and writhing about, his hands holding his head. There's a large gash running from Thanos' hairline to nearly two inches across his temple, bleeding profusely, and Loki thinks he may be sick.

"Wh… wha the ff… fuck…" Thanos mutters lowly, his voice slurred and thick with confusion.

Loki swallows thickly, paralyzed in absolute shock.

It worked.

It worked!

He can hardly believe… he can…

He realizes in an instant that he doesn't have time to be standing here, gawking like an idiot. He's got to move. Got to get away now, now, right now!

And so he does, dropping the shovel and nearly tripping over Thanos' massive body as he jumps over him, running for the front door.

His heart is racing so fast now, it feels like it's going to give out any moment, his ears ringing still with the sound of the shovel making impact and the rush of blood.

Reaching the door, he lifts his hands to undo the chain, but they're shaking so badly, he can't get a hold of the thin, metal sliver. Instantly his eyes fill with tears, a harsh sob breaking past his lips as panic takes over.

Oh God, oh God…

"Wh… what the ff-f-fuck!" He hears Thanos behind him, voice clearer.

And then he hears the giant man beginning to get up, and Loki nearly goes blind with fear.

His hands are shaking violently still, but he just manages to slip the chain from its place, letting it fall as he reaches now for the deadbolt, trembling fingers slippery with sweat as he turns it open.

Another, vicious sob escapes his throat as he takes hold the door's handle and tears it open, just as the sound of Thanos' running feet fills the foyer.

Loki launches himself past the threshold, willing his legs to move, to run.

He makes it halfway across the yard, trying to gauge quickly the jump he'll have to make to clear the short fence surrounding it, when what feels like a car crashes into his back, sending him hurtling down against the snow covered, muddy lawn.

A sharp, desperate gasp breaks past Loki's lips, his eyes wide in horror as he realizes Thanos has him.

He thrashes madly, hands tearing at the ground an agonized scream tearing from his throat, and he can feel Thanos' massive hands struggling to catch hold of his squirming form. To hold him down.

And then Loki finds himself flipped over onto his back, Thanos straddling his hips and posturing up.

"You little fuckin' SHIT!" He yells, voice booming, and in an instant, a thick, hardened fist is slamming into Loki's face, making his entire world explode in a shock of pain and white and loud, ceaseless ringing.

No, Loki thinks miserably, despairingly. No. He'd been so close. He'd been…

Another, crushing blow, and Loki can taste blood now, washing over his tongue, exploding from his nose. The world spins, spots of black dancing before his eyes. Another blow, and he's going to die, Loki thinks. Thanos is going to murder him right here, on his front lawn.

He'll never see his family again. Never see Thor, or Mother or… or even Odin. He won't…

But no, no… he can't let this happen. He can't, not after coming so close. Not after almost…

He turns his head aside as another blow reigns down, this one clipping the cup of his ear. His vision is swimming, spinning in dizzying circles. But there, as it begins to clear somewhat in the seconds between blows, he sees it. A large rock, nearly big as his fist. It's right there. If he can just reach it.

And so he tries, realizing his hands are still free, Thanos too busy punching him in the face to hold them down. He scrambles, throwing his arm out, groping blindly for the stone as, again, his vision erupts into white, pain ratcheting through his skull, another landed blow from Thanos. It takes several, agonizing seconds of feeling around before he feels his fingers bush against the cool, rough surface of the rock, and he doesn't hesitate then, curling his hand around it and lifting it up.

He can barely see as he turns his face back up to Thanos, seeing the older man's snarling, vicious expression as he looks down at him, ill intent heavy in his expression, fist again raised back for another blow.

Loki doesn't wait any longer, gauging quickly his target.

He brings his arm up, slamming the rock with as much force as he's able against Thanos' temple, the same spot where he'd before hit him with the shovel.

The giant man crumples, listing sideways and off of Loki completely as he collapses to the ground.

Loki rockets up to a sitting position, slamming his eyes closed for a moment as the world spins faster, his vision blurring.

But he knows better than to wait this time, sitting there only an instant before he's pushing himself shakily to his feet, just barely catching himself from going down again.

He spares only the briefest of glances at Thanos. He looks like he's unconscious, the gash in his head even wider than before.

And then Loki's taking off. He jumps over the fence, his foot catching as he tries to clear it, landing him hard on his hands and knees on the paved sidewalk beyond. He's only vaguely aware of the stinging pain of his scrapped knees and palms as he again staggers to his feet.

Thor, he thinks. He needs to get to Thor.

His apartment isn't close. At least twenty blocks. But it doesn't matter. He has to get there.

And so he just keeps running. Running and running, until his lungs feel like they're burning up in his chest, and he can barely breathe.

He'll die if he stops, he thinks.

He's got to keep going.

Going until he finds his brother.

He'll only be safe when he's with Thor again.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"He'll be prosecuted!" Odin snaps, voice rising in anger. "The son of a bitch will be behind bars so fast, it'll make his head spin. I'll personally see to that!"

Frigga sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away.

Looking towards the private room's lavatory, where Loki has been for the last ten minutes or so. She prays her youngest son can't hear any of this. As it is, looking at Thor, sitting gloomily, with his own, muscular arms crossed over his chest, his face turned down, she knows her eldest is having a hard enough time of it.

"Odin, please," she finally says, turning back to him and looking at him squarely. "I understand you're upset…"

"Upset?" Odin talks over her, voice edged hard. "Upset it what I get when I lose a case Frigga. Upset is what I am when one of my aides fucks something up. This… this, I don't even have the words to describe what the hell it is I'm feeling."

"I understand, Odin." Frigga pushes right back. "You think I don't feel it too? Or Thor? What I'm asking of you is to then please try and understand what it is Loki is going through, and use that to think more clearly. I get it. I do. You want the man punished. We all do, I'm sure. But Loki's only just escaped from a nightmare none of us can even begin to imagine. I know my son Odin, and I know he hasn't told us even half of what he went through. That he may never. We can't ask him now to get on a witness stand and relive all of that. Don't you see?"

Odin huffs agitatedly, turning away at last and beginning to pace the length of the room.

He does understand, Frigga suspects. But her husband has never been well at accepting defeat, or showing patients. He's always been the sort who knew what he wanted, and never hesitated to take hold of it with both hands.

Thor is much like him in that way. Loki, her sensitive boy, has always been very much the opposite. Always so uncertain, so, oddly, despite his outwardly abrasive attitude at times, timid.

Watching her husband pace back and forth a few, long seconds more, and finally she turns away, striding towards the closed bathroom door, knocking gently upon it. She can hear the faucet running, and she feels her heart sink.

Loki always used to hide in the bathroom when he was upset, would turn on the water, thinking it could hide the fact he was crying. But Frigga could always hear his quiet weeping. And she heard it now, barely audible, but still there. Though the moment she'd knocked, it had cut abruptly.

"Loki, baby, are you alright in there?" She calls softly.

A few, long moments pass before she hears any reply, her worry increasing by the second.

"Y-yeah M-Mama, I'm just… j-just getting cleaned up some." She finally hears Loki call back, his voice shaky and weak.

"Do you need any help?" She calls back, her fingers worrying in the material of her blouse.

"N-no Mama, I'm alright." He replies.

Frigga finds her own eyes stinging, tears threatening at their backs.

Oh her poor, sweet boy. What he's been through…

No one should have to experience such pain. Not ever. Least of all one so young as Loki.

"Alright," she says. "but if you do, you let me know, yes?"

"Y-yes Mama." Loki tells her.

Reluctantly, she turns away from the door, back towards her husband, glancing aside at Thor, who continues looking morbid and stressed.

"Is he alright in there?" Thor asks, lifting his face to look at her.

She nods vaguely.

"I think so. He… he's just washing up a little." She says, but Thor hardly looks convinced.

He breathes out heavily, standing quickly then and, like his father, beginning to pace, irritated.

"Prison isn't enough for what that son of a bitch did to Loki!" He snaps suddenly, voice rumbling. "I say we go over to the fuckers house and beat him to within an inch of his fucking life!"

Frigga stands, wide eyed and shocked at Thor's display of violence and vulgarity, while Odin freezes in his own movement, glaring at their son in disapproval.

"And how, exactly, will that help your brother Thor?" He asks after a moment.

Thor grimaces, his jaw tightening visibly.

"It'll show people they can't hurt my little brother and fucking get away with it! That's how it'll help him!" Thor nearly shouts.

"Thor, please," Frigga starts. "keep your voice down. And stop that language. You know better than that."

Thor looks like he's about to argue, but closes his mouth a moment later, crossing his arms again and looking all the more frustrated.

Odin sighs, glancing away.

"Thor, I understand your desire to punish Thanos. Believe me, I'd love nothing more than to go over there and do as you say. But if we did do something like that, we'd eliminate any chance of putting him behind bars, and possibly even bring a lawsuit down on ours and Loki's heads, and worse, possibly even criminal charges."

"Criminal charges!" Thor starts to shout again.

"Listen to me," Odin holds up a hand to stop the coming barrage. "yes, criminal charges. For assault."

"Assault!" Thor again splutters, incredulous. "And what would you call it, what that fucker did to Loki!? No, no, wait." He charges on, cutting his father off. "It's not assault. Its God damned torture. He… he held my brother, my little brother captive for almost an entire fucking year, beating him an… and r-raping him, letting other people rape him. He could have fucking AIDS now! The coward deserves to fucking die for what he did."

"Baby, calm down." Frigga again tries to intercede, but Thor is worked up into nearly a frenzy, not even seeming to hear her.

"I want his head on a fucking spike. I want to beat the fuckers face in until he isn't even recognizable anymore. I want to…"

"Thor!" Odin finally snaps, cutting his son off, and Thor looks at him, eyes wide and startled.

And he sees his father nodding in the direction over his shoulder, behind him.

But Frigga's already seen, her hand over her mouth, the other curled to a fist at her side.

Loki, leaning heavily against the bathroom's doorframe, staring out at them from his bruised and swollen eyes, tears streaming, thick and silent down his pale and sunken cheeks.


	8. Chapter 8

"Loki, baby," Frigga starts, reaching out to her son, the anguish across his face making panic bloom painfully in his chest.

But it's already too late.

He's staring, his gaze flitting rapidly, like some injured animal, between Thor and Odin, the tears thick and coursing rapidly down his bruised, gaunt face.

"Son," Odin tries, taking a step forward.

It proves the wrong move, as Loki chokes out, a strangled sob tearing past his lips as he steps back.

"… I…" he starts, then stops, wiping clumsily at his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm s-sorry if… if I'm such a burden t-to you. I'm sorry, just... if I c-caused you so m-much embarrassment."

"Loki, oh God," Frigga starts, horrified. "You haven't... you haven't done anything."

But her son hardly seems to hear her, only shaking his head again, and in an instant, he's running from the room, moving faster than his injuries should allow as he breaks for the door and pulls it open, disappearing out of it in a flash.

"Loki!" Thor cries, making to go after him.

"No!" Frigga intervenes quickly, and Thor freezes, staring at her wide eyed.

"But..." he starts, and she shakes her head.

"No." She says more calmly. "You and your father wait here. I'll go after him."

For a moment, it looks like her eldest is about to argue, his mouth coming open and his hands opening and closing at his sides, visibly frustrated.

But then, blessedly, Thor seems to think better of it, his shoulders slumping, nodding weakly.

Odin already has resigned to her instruction.

"I'll find him." She tells them again by way of reassurance. "Just wait here."

Still, she's relieved when they let her go without trying to follow.

Thor and Odin meant well, she knows that. But neither of them have often shown the kind of sensitivity and care her youngest has always needed. It was their careless arguing and raging emotions which had caused this very situation now. Both of them, though trying to help, had a tendency for bluntness which proved many times devastating for Loki.

He needed patience, and kindness. Needed a soft touch.

Peering down the hallway, both left and right, she tries to determine which way her youngest has gone.

He can't have gotten far, she thinks a little desperately, her heart beating uncomfortably inside her chest, her hands clenching as her mind chooses that moment to think on Loki's tendency to hurt himself when he's nervous or scared or overwhelmed.

She has to find him.

She has to do it quickly.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

A familiar spike of terror washes through Loki as he hears footsteps and voices outside the bedroom door, and instinctively, though he's long resigned to its uselessness, he struggles against the bounds holding his wrists to the bed frames headboard.

Oh God, he thinks despairingly, what is Thanos going to do to him this time?

The rattling of the doorknob only makes his heart beat faster, and a moment later, it comes open, and he sees Thanos standing there, his massive shoulders taking up the whole of the frame.

It's all Loki can do to keep himself from dissolving into tears just at the sight of him, and he turns his face away, humiliation and fear mixing sickeningly in his stomach.

"There he is." He hears Thanos say to someone. "I want you to give him the full treatment. I'm paying your skank ass for it. So that means you stay with him all night."

"Sure baby." Loki hears, and it's a woman's voice, and his heart picks up faster, his head swirling with dizzying thoughts and horrors.

"I'll be back to check on you in a few hours." Thanos tells her, and a moment later, Loki hears the door slam shut and lock behind.

His mind won't stop ticking over, thinking, wondering what's going on, even as in his heart, he already knows.

But... a woman... a woman might... she might...

He hears her moving across the carpet, towards him, and suddenly he remembers his state. That he's naked and beaten to hell, and oh God, she must think he's disgusting, tied to the bed, scrawny and broken, his face swollen and bloody.

"Damn..." he hears her mutter, sensing she's at the foot of the bed, and reluctantly, he turns his face towards her, his eyes stinging with tears he can't stop.

She's a black woman, dressed in a halter top and short shorts, carrying a large bag on her shoulder, and Loki can plainly see she's a prostitute. He feels nauseous and dizzy, and panicked desperation forces the words from his mouth.

"Help me." He begs, his voice barely more than a cracked whisper, run raw from all the crying and screaming he's been doing. "Help me, p-please."

He doesn't know what makes him say it, only the woman is looking at him with apparent pity.

"How long's he had you like this?" She asks, and Loki can't help the swell of hope that rises up in his chest.

"Six... s-six months." He says. "Please, I... I need you t-to help me. Please."

The woman shakes her head, opening her bag and beginning to take different items out. Loki watches her movements, the tears stinging at the backs of his eyes finally slipping free as he watches her remove a package of condoms and a bottle of lube.

He can't... he can't do this. Oh God, please...

"I can't help you." She tells him, and he sobs brokenly, unable to stop it. She looks up at him, and there's naked regret on her face. "I'm sorry. I am." She goes on. "But if you know Thanos, you know how dangerous he is. It's not just me I'm lookin' after. He'll fuck up all my girls if I don't do like he tells me."

Loki doesn't know what to say to that. Doesn't know what she means. He only looks away, shaking viciously.

"Christ, you're just a baby." She goes on. "What's a baby like you doing mixed up with that bastard anyway?"

Loki doesn't know if she expects him to answer. He can't if she does. He suddenly feels like he can't breathe properly, and he prays desperately that he isn't having another asthma attack.

"The son of a bitch is charming, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised." The woman keeps talking, and Loki can hear her unzipping her shorts.

Another sob catches in his throat as he tries to swallow it down.

"That's how me and my girls got mixed up with him. He's got money too, and we can't turn down a paying customer. 'Specially not one so regular. It's just business baby. I hope you understand."

Loki shakes his head.

He doesn't understand. He doesn't.

The woman doesn't seem to notice or care as she continues to undress, and Loki squeezes his eyes shut, mortified.

He's never seen a naked woman before.

"He wants me to have sex with you." She says suddenly, and Loki can hear her shift closer, alongside the bed now. He's breathing hard, terror blooming again in the pit of his stomach.

The woman makes a tsking noise.

"You've never been with a woman, have you baby." She says, a statement more than a question. "You're a little gay boy."

Again, Loki doesn't know if she expects him to actually answer, but she knows already anyway.

He can't stop shaking.

"We'll just start with somethin' simple then, okay sweetie?" She says. "I don't want to hurt you. You look like you've been plenty hurt enough already."

"P-please, my... my f-ffamily has money." Loki suddenly blurts, desperate, turning towards her. She's standing there, naked, and Loki feels his face flush with embarrassment. "Th-they'll p-pay you if you help me get out of here. I s-swear. I'll tell them you h-helped me."

Again, the woman shakes her head.

"Baby, what do you want me to do?" She asks. "There's a back door and a front door. You think I can get you past Thanos?"

"Y-you cc-could call the p-police, please." Loki entreats, voice thick with tears.

"Honey, I'm a prostitute." She says. "How you think that'll go down?"

"You c-could call them an-anonymously, p-please..." Loki goes on, not caring how pathetic he knows he must sound.

"Sweetie, I can't get involved with no cops. I'm sorry." She tells him again. "Maybe you don't know. You ain't ever been in trouble with the law maybe. But I've been in the big house once already. I can't risk it again."

Loki turns away, defeated, slamming his eyes shut again, tears streaming hot and fast down his cheeks, his teeth grinding together.

"We'll just start simple." She says, and Loki is starting to hate the sound of her voice. "You've had blow jobs before, right? We'll just start with that."

Loki feels the bed dip suddenly with her weight, and again, thoughtlessly, he pulls at the bonds round his wrists, trying to get away from her.

"Just relax honey." She says. "I'll try and make it nice for you."

And then her hands are on him. On his legs, on his thighs, and a swell of rage and terror grips his heart.

"It's rape." He says, and doesn't even know where he finds the courage.

He feels her freeze, her hands stilling, and it urges him on.

"Y... you're raping m-me." He stammers, his heart thudding painfully. "Th-that's what it is. If I d-don't want it. That's what it is."

He looks at her, tears running thick and fast down his face, and he doesn't even try to stop them. It doesn't matter anymore.

She looks back at him, her own face a mix of emotions. Only Loki can see already it's a useless cause. Nothing he says to her is going to stop this. Nothing, because she's looking out for herself, and he can't even blame her. He's just a job to her. Just a way to survive.

And he can't fight her off. He can't move at all.

He looks away, knowing it's hopeless.

"It's nothin' personal honey." He hears her mutter, and he wants to laugh.

He's going to die here, he thinks. He's going to die, and his family won't ever even know.

When he feels her take hold of him in her rough hands, he closes his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood, trying uselessly to push down the swell of panic he feels in his chest.

Sometimes, now... sometimes, he wishes he would just die.

It would be easier, he thinks.

It would be better than this.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Loki bites down hard on his knuckles, forcing the sob which lodges in his throat back down, only a weak whimper escaping past his hand.

His chest is heaving, and he tries desperately to calm his breathing, to remember to take deep, slow breathes.

But he can't stop thinking now, can't stop remembering.

His family knew now. They knew he'd been... and that he hadn't been able to...

He presses his face to his drawn up knees, squeezing his eyes shut.

He can still remember the feel of that woman's hands on him. The way she'd made him... the way they'd all made him... him... Oh God, he can't even think the word, humiliation burning hot against his skin as he pictures it.

He hadn't wanted to. He hadn't wanted to when any of them had come in and forced him to have sex. It was just a physical response that had made him, he... he knew that. Logically he knew that. But...

Oh god, if his family knew, they'd be even more ashamed of him than they probably already were. They'd be disgusted.

It was bad enough that he hadn't been able to fight back. Not against Thanos or any of his friends. But that he hadn't been able to defend himself, even against those girls...

It was pathetic. There was no other way to think of it.

Maybe Mom and Thor wouldn't say so, but Loki knew, if Dad found out, he would. Even though Dad was being kind now, and Loki didn't think he would ever be able to say in words how much that meant, if he knew... if he knew how pitiful and weak his son really was... if he didn't know already... he didn't think Dad would ever look at him with respect again.

And with what he'd heard, the argument between Dad and Thor... if Dad had his way, this whole thing was going to end up going to trial, and then... then everybody would know. Then he'd have to see Thanos again, have to... to face him and look at him and...

He presses his face harder against his knees, trying to shove the thoughts from his mind.

He can't think about this now. He's going to go crazy if he keeps thinking about it.

It isn't really a surprise when he hears the doorknob rattle, and a second later, the thing pull open, the scent of his mother filling the tiny space.

He'd only manged to hide in here a few, short minutes. In this dusty, cluttered janitor's closet.

He thinks he should be mortified, but he can only feel relief.

"Oh, baby." He hears her say as she crouches down beside him and a moment later, her delicate fingers are reaching out and brushing his hair up, back behind his ears. "I'm so sorry. You weren't supposed to hear that."

Loki continues to keep his face hidden against his knees, too ashamed to look at her.

"Honey, you should be resting." Frigga goes on, continuing to massage her fingers through his hair. The feel of it is soothing, and Loki can feel himself beginning to relax with it. "Come back to the room?"

Whatever will he'd had to resist her comfort breaks suddenly, and he's throwing his arms around her a moment later, burying his face against her shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He weeps softly. "I'm sorry..."

"Shhh," Frigga shushes him gently, her hand rubbing circles against his back. "it's okay baby. You did nothing wrong."

"I just... I didn't w-want..." he says, clinging to her almost desperately. "I don't want them to... to look at me like th-that. Like I'm pathetic, even... even though I a-am."

"Oh, Loki, no... No, you aren't." His mother says, squeezing him tighter.

But Loki can't believe that. Even if Mom believes it herself, he can't. She's just being kind, like always.

He shakes his head.

"It n-never would've h-happened to... to Thor." He says, voice shaking and thick with his tears. And he knows that's true.

"Baby, it could have happened to anyone. Oh, sweetheart..."

But again, Loki shakes his head.

"No, I... I was t-too weak. Thanos just... he just overpowered me and there w-wasn't anything I could do. He just overpowered me and l-locked me up. He c-couldn't've done that to Thor."

"Oh Loki, please, please don't do this to yourself." His mother pleads, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

But she doesn't deny it, because she knows it's true, Loki thinks. She knows what happened to him would never have happened to her real son, and it only makes Loki cry more desperately, the shame near suffocating as it washes fresh through him.

He's a failure. He's always been a failure. Always been a disappointment.

This just... this all just proves it, doesn't it? Proves what everyone already knows.

Loki doesn't... doesn't know how he's going to deal with this. Doesn't know how he can live with this.

Now that he's gotten away from Thanos...

He hadn't had time to think before. Hadn't had time for anything but the instinct to get away, to save his own life, some way, any way.

Now that he has, now that he's safe, he can't stop thinking. Can't stop remembering.

Oh, God, he wishes he could just pass out. At least then his mind would stop torturing him like this.

"Baby, come on. We should get you back to your room." Mom says gently, shifting her hold down his back, hooking him under the arms. "You can sleep some, okay?"

Loki nods, letting her pick him back up to his feet.

He doesn't have the strength to argue anyway. Doesn't even want to.

If he could just sleep for a little while...

Just for a little while.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanos spits angrily into the sink for the third time, blood and saliva mixing together, and he sneers down at it, still holding the ice bag to his temple.

That little fucker. That disgusting, pathetic little cunt... He was going to kill him, he thinks. He was going to find that little bastard again and fucking murder his ass.

He already knows where the boy's likely gone. No doubt to his big brother. The sniveling bitch was constantly crying out for him when Thanos had him here, begging for him like his brother would actually be able to hear him and come rescue him.

Thanos still can't believe the twerp managed to escape on his own.

That had been his own fault, he supposes. He'd gotten careless, too confident.

It had been a mistake letting his parent's come over. Too much of a risk. And Loki, faggoty little shit that he was, wasn't stupid. Of course he would have taken the opportunity presented to him and run with it.

Thanos chuckles to himself, spitting more blood into the sink.

He had to give it to the little boy. He had more balls than Thanos had given him credit for, to actually attack him the way he had.

Thanos hadn't thought for a minute the kid had it in him, but he knew better now. And next time would be different.

And there would be a next time.

He was going to get his little toy back. Oh yes he was.

Loki might actually be stupid enough to talk to the cops, but that wouldn't matter. Thanos wasn't going to stay in this house long enough for it to matter, and he knew how to go way underground. The cops wouldn't have a chance to find him.

He'd regroup, get his shit together, and then make his move. And once he did, nobody was ever going to see Loki again.

Thanos couldn't decide if he was going to outright kill the fucker or maybe keep him alive for a few months, torture him, and then kill him. Either way, Loki's life was fucking over.

Splashing some more water onto his face, he finally turns from the sink, grabbing a paper towel and drying off before moving back into the living room.

Fuck, his head was pounding from where that damned pansy had hit him, first with that fire poker and then a damned rock. That on top of the wide, still bleeding gash. He was probably gonna need stitches for that, the fucker.

Well, he takes consolation in the fact that he knows Loki's hurting even worse, if the way he'd drilled his fist into the brats face so many times counted for anything.

He still doesn't know how Loki hadn't blacked out from that. The boy was so physically frail, after all.

Adrenaline, Thanos supposes.

Flopping down on the couch, he leans back against the cushions, staring up at the ceiling, and finds himself grinning, remembering the first time he spotted Loki.

It was in that gay bar.

Thanos had been scouring around, looking for someone to pick up. He hadn't been expecting anyone special. Just a fuckboy he could maybe smack around a little, and get a decent lay in the process.

But when he'd seen Loki... he'd known then and there he had to have him. Not just for a night or two. He had to have him to keep.

Loki was fucking beautiful. There was no other way to put it.

Thanos remembers not being able to stop staring at the boy as he'd leaned up against the bar, wearing a pair of skin tight jeans and a form fitting short sleeved shirt, his body lithe as a gazelle, face gorgeous with those angular features, hair black as a raven swept back, and skin white as snow.

No older than sixteen or seventeen, Thanos recalls thinking, the kid hadn't known what the hell he was doing, having obviously gotten in on a fake ID and no experience.

Every jerkwad in that place had been eying him like a piece of meat, ready to pounce, and that had been Thanos' ticket in.

By the time he'd made his way to Loki up at the bar, there was already some jackass all over him, harassing the boy, arm draped over those slim shoulders, and Thanos remembers how mortified Loki had been. Paralyzed with fear and uncertainty, and that had been just fucking perfect.

He'd turned up the charm all the way, torn the fucker who was slobbering all over the kid off with force, and come with gusto to Loki's rescue.

And that was all it had taken.

The little shit was hooked, the pants literally charmed right off of him.

Wine and dine the little brat, and it hadn't taken really more than a few weeks before Loki was falling all over himself to make Thanos happy, and that too was something Thanos prided himself on.

Loki had been so damn cocky before that. So fucking full of himself, arrogant and superior acting, like he was the smartest fucking person in the world.

Thanos had gotten off on showing him otherwise. Fuck, it had been almost orgasmic, making the boy paw and fawn and beg like the little cunt he actually was.

Well, Thanos knew Loki wasn't feeling so smart anymore. Wasn't feeling so superior.

He'd put that fuckboy in his place alright. And he was going to keep doing it.

As soon as he got his chance.

/

Thor wakes suddenly, rocketing upright in his seat, eyes bleary and unadjusted for the darkness of the room.

When he'd finally nodded off, the sun had just begun setting, its blazing bright rays pouring in through the only partially drawn blinds of his brother's room's windows.

Now it's almost completely dark, save the few, meager moon beams making their way past those same blinds, and it takes Thor several seconds before his eyes are able to start seeing again.

He's breathing hard, and he realizes as he grows more cognizant, that he'd been having a nightmare, though for the life of him, he can't remember about what.

Only knows he's nervous and a little bit sweaty as his eyes scan over the room, remembering suddenly where he is, and why.

He finds Mom first, fast asleep in one of the room's chairs, looking, somehow as she always does, still elegant and poised, even with her head laid back and mouth slightly parted.

Dad had had to go home earlier, promising to come back in the morning. Mom had decided to stay, as had Thor.

He keeps his eyes on her only a moment though, before they're shifting quickly to Loki's bed, searching almost frantically for his little brother's form.

He breathes out in relief when he spots him, sitting up on the mattresses edge, back to him, shoulders hunched and head bowed.

But the relief lasts only a moment as Thor registers that Loki is up at all, and that he looks, more than anything, distressed and miserable.

Even in the darkened room, he can see his brother's painfully thin frame shaking, if only slightly. Can see through the partially opened back of his gown the too prominent ridges of his spine and his individual ribs.

Jesus, Thor thinks. He knows when the nurse had gotten Loki's weight earlier yesterday, that his brother had only weighed a hundred and twenty two pounds. Seeing what that actually looked like though was different than hearing it.

It was awful. So damned awful.

Shaking his head, forcing his eyes away, he pulls his phone out from his jacket pocket to check the time, staring blearily at the numbers displayed to him, a little disbelieving.

1:00 AM? How the hell did so much time pass?

Looking back up at Loki, he wonders if he's brother has slept at all.

"Loki?" He starts, trying to keep his voice soft.

Even so, he doesn't miss the way Loki flinches at the sound of his voice, hunching somehow more in on himself.

"You're awake?" Thor goes on. A few, long moments pass before he sees his brother give a single, stiff nod.

"... Are you alright?" Thor asks, knowing before the question even leaves his lips that it's a stupid one.

Of course Loki isn't alright. Thor doesn't know if he's ever really been alright. If he even has a chance anymore of ever being so.

Mom had found him after running out of the room earlier, and brought him back okay, thank God. But Loki had been listless and quiet since then, simply lying in the bed, sometimes with his eyes closed, sometimes open, staring at nothing, giving one and two word answers.

Thor recognized Loki's depressions. His brother had suffered them all his life, since he was a little kid, really.

Thor had tried cheering him up, tried being positive, saying that he was sure all of Loki's tests would come back alright, trying to reassure him that for now all any of them wanted was for Loki to heal and get better.

But it didn't seem to matter what Thor said to him. Loki just kept getting quieter and quieter as the day wore on. Kept seeming to get sadder.

Things don't seem to have improved in the hours Thor has been asleep.

Pushing himself carefully from his seat, he stands and stretches, before making his way around the bed, to Loki's side.

Wordlessly, he sits down on the bed next to his brother, carefully reaching out and putting an arm around Loki's slender shoulders.

He half expects Loki to protest. To try and push him away, or duck out from his hold. But he just sits there, motionless, and doesn't fight at Thor pulls him against his side.

"Hey, Loki... I'm right here now." Thor tells him softly. "I'm right here for you."

And then, suddenly, Loki is leaning into him, his thin hands coming up and clinging to the material of Thor's shirt as he turns towards him, burying his face against his shoulder.

Thor is, for a moment, stunned, before he recovers and brings his other arm around, pulling Loki into a full hug.

"It's okay." He says gently, his own eyes stinging with tears as he feels Loki shudder against him, a ragged gasp slipping past his brother's lips.

"... I'm scared Thor." He admits brokenly, voice wavering and hoarse.

"I know." Thor tells him, pressing a kiss to his temple. "It's okay to be scared."

Loki doesn't say anything for several, long seconds, crying silently as Thor holds onto him.

"... I was so stupid." He finally mutters. "I was so stupid Thor."

"You weren't stupid Loki." Thor says, his heart sinking. "You just wanted someone to love you. And he used that against you. It isn't your fault."

Loki shakes his head, still hiding his face.

"It is." He insists. "I was su-such an idiot. If only I'd listened to you or Mm-Mom or Dad, I wouldn't have... I wouldn't..."

"Shh, Loki, don't do that. You're just a kid. This wasn't... this wasn't your fault. It's his fault. Do you hear me? It's that bastard. He did this to you."

Oh, Thor wishes he was better with words. He wishes he knew how to make Loki understand. To make Loki believe him.

If it's anyone's fault, Thor thinks dismally, it's his own. He should have known something was wrong. Should have done more. Should have rescued Loki.

He'd failed his brother. He'd failed him completely. And now Loki was suffering. He was suffering so much, and Thor felt as if there wasn't anything he could do to help him.

For long minutes then they just sit there, holding onto one another, Loki continuing to weep silently, hiding his face, Thor trying best he could to give him comfort.

After a while, at last, Loki seems to calm somewhat, pulling back and wiping at his eyes with his palms, shaking his head.

"Do you think..." he sniffs, seeming to look everywhere but at Thor. "do you think we could go outside and I could smoke a cigarette?"

Thor hesitates only a moment.

He doesn't like Loki smoking. He never has. Though it's never been a problem Loki's really had. He's never been one of those people who smokes two packs a day or whatever. His brother has only ever had the occasional smoke. And Thor just doesn't have the heart now to tell him no.

"Sure." He says. "Come on."

He helps Loki to stand up from the bed, being as gentle as he's able. Loki feels so fragile in his hands. He's so thin. Almost brittle, it seems.

"You have a pack?" He asks, and Loki nods, turning towards where his clothes are folded up along a nightstand, rummaging through his jacket pockets before retrieving what he's looking for, along with a lighter.

"Put your jacket on." Thor tells him. "Boots and sweater too. It's cold out."

Loki does as he's told without complaint, and something about it makes Thor's heart hurt.

He helps his brother into his coat, zipping it up for him, before putting an arm around his shoulders and moving with him out of the room.

Loki leans into him, and Thor holds him tighter.

"We're just stepping out for a smoke." Thor tells a nurse that they pass, and the woman simply nods, letting them on their way.

Outside, Thor stands near his brother as he pulls a cigarette from the pack and lights it up, inhaling the smoke deeply before letting it out in a puff.

It really is cold out here, Thor thinks, glancing at Loki and seeing his brother shivering already.

And so again Thor puts his arm around him, holding him close.

"You okay?" He asks, and Loki nods, though he's shaking pronouncedly.

"I'm alright." He says, taking another drag from his cigarette.

Thor frowns.

"Just a few minutes. Alright? I don't want you catching cold."

Again, Loki nods, staying quiet.

Thor keeps glancing at him, unable to help it, worrying churning in his stomach.

And he wonders, suddenly, how it is Loki managed to escape Thanos.

He realizes he hadn't even thought about it until now. He'd been too concerned with Loki's immediate safety, his immediate need for a doctor, to really worry about anything else. But... his brother's battered and neglected state spoke clearly to his having been held captive for nearly the whole time he was away.

Thor hadn't had the nerve to ask Loki for any kind of details yet. He wasn't at all sure he wanted to know. Though thinking such things only made guilt surge up inside him. Loki had to bear the burden of what had happened to him, and Thor didn't think he should be made to do that alone.

His brother was smart.

That was the understatement of the century.

His brother was absurdly smart.

Thor thinks, then, he shouldn't be surprised Loki figured out a way to escape.

It could only have been that Thanos had used his physical strength to overpower Loki and keep him where he wanted. Loki may have gone with Thanos willingly at first, but that wasn't how it had stayed.

His brother would have had to trick Thanos, Thor thinks. Somehow, he would have had to...

"You're wondering how I got away." Loki's voice abruptly breaks him from his thoughts.

Thor blinks, startled.

"... Yes." He admits after a moment, feeling vaguely embarrassed.

Loki takes another drag from his cigarette, before throwing it down on the pavement, crushing it under his heel.

He keeps his eyes on the ground.

"I got lucky." Loki tells him dully. "No great plan, if that's what you're thinking. I didn't fool him. I couldn't..." he trails off, and Thor sees a tear escape, slipping down his brother's reddening cheek. Loki lifts a hand to wipe it away. "He's smarter than me." He finishes, almost too softly to hear.

Thor can't help it. He scoffs, shaking his head.

"No he's not." He says, angry and frustrated. "He's a fucking moron."

But Loki just shakes his head again, more tears escaping.

"I tried talking my way out." He says, a bitter laugh slipping past his lips. "Nothing I said to him worked. He saw through everything. He just... h-he knew how to control me. I..."

A swell of rage and despair washes through Thor, and he finds himself torn between wanting to grab Loki up, wanting to show him it's alright, and taking off and finding that son of a bitch and beating the life out of him.

"Loki," he tries, but Loki just keeps on talking.

"He had his parents come over. He... he made a mistake. He wanted to sh-show me off to them."

Loki turns away, wrapping his arms round himself.

"I wanted to tell them. I wanted to so much, but I... I was too afraid. I couldn't do it."

Thor could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"He had his parents over? And they... they couldn't tell something was wrong?! How is that even possible!?"

Loki shrugs, still looking away.

"Thanos knows how to fool people. he... he fooled me. His parent's couldn't have done anything anyway. They were old."

"Loki..." he starts again.

"But he made a mistake. I guess... I guess he didn't think I would have the guts to... to try and get away. He saw his parents out and I was alone for a few moments and... I w-waited for him. I used a fire poker and I..."

"You fought your way out." Thor finishes for him, realizing.

"... Barely." Loki answers. "I barely got away. Thor, he..." his brother turns towards him finally, tears again thick in his eyes. "he's going to come after me again. I know he is. I only made him angry, and he's going to come back for me. He won't let me go."

"Loki, no." Thor says, stepping towards him. "That isn't going to happen."

Loki's face crumples, turning it away.

"Loki," Thor says, closing the small distance between them, wrapping his arms round his brother and pulling him into a hug. "I'm not going to let that happen. Do you hear me? I won't let him near you. Not ever again."

Loki throws his own arms round Thor, pressing his face to his chest, clinging to him.

"I won't let him Loki." Thor repeats, and finally his brother nods against him.

Thor holds him a few minutes longer, rubbing up and down Loki's back to keep him warm, before finally deciding that's enough time out here.

"Come on Loki, let's go back inside. Okay?"

Loki nods.

"Okay." He says weakly, going easily as Thor holds him round his shoulders and leads them back into the hospital.


	10. Chapter 10

Frigga sits up straight in her seat when the door opens, and she sees the doctor come back through, holding a chart and looking over it.

Her hand automatically finds Odin's and squeezes down on it, painfully tight, even as her eyes shift to Loki.

Her sweet boy had finally fallen asleep in just the last few hours, and she can't help thinking what awful timing this is then. She wants Loki to rest as much as possible, and depending on what Dr. Strange has to say, he might not be able to again.

She tries not to think about her own fear now, even as her mouth feels dry, looking back to the doctor and trying to glean what it is he's thinking, if she can tell anything by his demeanor.

She doesn't know what she'll do if... if Loki's been infected with... with HIV or something similarly incurable. After everything her son has been through in his life, she doesn't... she doesn't know if she can handle him endure another tragedy. She can't bear anymore to see him suffer, not anymore than he already has.

Finally, Dr. Strange looks up from his charts, smiling tightly at all of them.

"Good morning." He says gently, and Frigga can't tell if he's trying to prepare them all for some awful news or not. She can't tell anything.

She squeezes Odin's hand tighter, and is grateful for the way he doesn't complain.

Thor stands along the other side of Loki's bed, looking towards the doctor with as much open nervousness as she herself feels.

"I see he's resting now." Dr. Strange goes on, nodding towards Loki's sleeping form. "But I have his test results back, and I thought we should go over them together."

Frigga forces herself to nod, blinking back the tears which threaten against the backs of her eyes.

"Of course." She says. "I'll wake him."

She stands, moving over towards her son and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, nudging him as softly as she's able.

"Loki, sweetheart..." she says quietly, leaning down close to him. "baby..."

After a few moments, he stirs, his eyes blinking open blearily and staring up at her in sleep addled confusion.

"Mm.. Mom..." he starts, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.

She smiles down at him, swallowing against her throat closing up. God, she can't bear this. She just wants to wrap him in a hug and tell him everything is going to be alright.

"Morning sweetie." She says instead, forcing her voice to hold steady. "I'm sorry to wake you darling, but the doctor is here. He has your... your test results, and he wants to go over them with you and all of us."

Loki continues staring up at her for several seconds, seeming not to understand, before at once his eyes clear, comprehension coming into them, and for a moment, she sees raw fear flash in them, before he stamps it down and turns away, nodding.

"... Okay." He says, almost too softly to hear, beginning to push himself up.

Frigga rushes to help him, getting her hands under his arms and helping him to sit, trying to be careful of his bruises.

Loki looks everywhere but at the doctor and the rest of them, keeping his eyes trained for only moments at a time on any one spot.

Thor steps closer, putting an arm round his brother's shoulders.

"It's okay Loki." He tells him quietly, and Loki just nods, still looking away.

Dr. Strange steps up to the foot of the bed, pulling up a chair and sitting down on it. He smiles at Loki.

"How're you feeling today son?" He asks gently.

Loki shrugs, keeping his gaze now on his lap.

"... A little better." He answers weakly.

"Yeah?" Dr. Strange goes on.

Again, Loki nods.

"That's good." The doctor continues. "I know you're still in a lot of pain. I promise that won't last."

Another nod from Loki.

Dr. Strange sighs, and Frigga feels slightly nauseous with anticipation of what he's going to say.

"So I have your test results here Loki. I don't know if you want your family here while we go over them or not. Obviously, some of it may be a little embarrassing to you. So if you want them to leave, you just tell me, okay?"

Loki swallows visibly, his frame winding tight.

"... Th-they can stay." He answers softly after a moment, voice wavering audibly.

"Okay." Dr. Strange goes on. "That's fine. So... good news right off the bat. You've tested negative for any of the really serious STD's, like HIV, Herpes, Syphilis, etcetera. You don't have anything incurable."

Frigga feels like she might collapse from relief.

"Oh, thank God." She breathes, unable to help herself, her hand finding Loki's and squeezing it tightly.

She can feel the tension in his own frame go out, his body slumping slightly where he sits, even as he continues to tremble under her touch.

He nods, not saying anything.

"So what's the rest of it?" Odin steps in then, businesslike as ever, but Frigga can detect the emotion in his voice.

"Well," Dr. Strange breathes in deeply, keeping his eyes on Loki, directing his answers towards him. "that's the good news. The bad news Loki is that you are suffering from several bacterial infections, which we already pretty much knew, from some of the symptoms you described to us as suffering, and also from the physical examination we did of you. So I'm talking about the burning sensation when you urinate, the itchiness and irritation you've been experiencing around your genital area, the rashes, the unusually colored discharge from your penis, as well as the swelling of your testicles and around your anus."

Whatever tension Loki had let go before, Frigga can feel it build back up in an instant, and she feels her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach.

She knows this is humiliating for him, and she feels awful. She wants to tell him he has no reason to be ashamed, nothing to be embarrassed over. That this isn't his fault, that none of these things say anything about him. They're just a part of his body, just a reaction. But she knows a mother trying to explain that to her son, particularly a boy as private and withdrawn as Loki is, wouldn't have the desired affect.

Instead she just squeezes his hand more tightly and prays he knows none of them are judging him right now.

"So," Dr. Strange continues when no one says anything. "you've tested positive for three different sexually transmitted diseases. Again, nothing incurable. But you've tested positive for Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, and pubic lice. You're also suffering from a pretty severe Urinary Tract Infection. Everything else you're clear on."

Loki nods, and then suddenly he's crying, turning his face away and covering it with his hand, shaking pronouncedly.

Frigga bends down and wraps her arms around him, pulling him against her chest in a hug.

"It's okay baby." She says softly to him. "It's okay."

Dr. Strange waits a few moments, allowing her to comfort him before he continues.

"All of these are treatable." He says gently. "It's pretty common for people who have contracted Chlamydia to also have contracted Gonorrhea, so that's not at all strange, and we can get rid of both by putting you on a broad spectrum antibiotic, and also knock the UTI out with the same. I'm going to prescribe you an antibiotic called Doxycycline. Now those are going to be 100 milligram tablets, which you'll have to take three times a day for fourteen days, since your infections are pretty severe and I don't want to take any chances of a relapse. Okay?"

Loki gives a weak nod after a few moments, saying nothing.

"Now for the pubic lice, I'm going to prescribe you something called Malathion lotion, which is basically just an insecticide for the body. You're going to need to use the lotion at least twice a day for about a week, and not just on the infected area, it's got to be your whole body. So you can't just use it around your genital area, but all over, okay? And you need to wash it all off after the prescribed time. They'll be instructions on the bottle."

"... D-do... do I nn-need to sh... shave or..." Loki starts quietly, his face noticably red with embarrassment.

Dr. Strange shakes his head.

"No. There's no need to shave the infected area at all. Just use the lotion for a week, twice a day, and that should take care of it."

Again Loki nods.

"... Okay." He says.

He won't look at anyone.

"And these antibiotics should take care of the bacterial infections, including the urinary tract infection?" Odin asks again.

"That's right." Dr. Strange tells him. "Just make sure he takes the pills with food and water, as they can cause some nausea. Otherwise, there shouldn't be any real side affects, and the infections should start to clear up in the first day or so."

"And he doesn't have anything else?" Thor asks now. "Nothing more serious?"

Again, Dr. Strange shakes his head.

"No. He tested negative for every other known STD. So again, to clarify, negative on HIV, Syphilis, Hepatitis, Herpes, etcetera. It's just the Gonorrhea, Chlamydia and pubic lice, as well as the UTI. And then he's suffering from just some superficial things, like the bruising and swelling and the cuts which we already took care of with stitches. The rest is just going to require some ice packs and some time. And the stitches will dissolve on their own in about a week"

Frigga breathes out, standing and reaching a hand out to the doctor.

"Thank you Dr. Strange." She tells him sincerely. "You've been an incredible help."

"Of course." Dr. Strange tells her, taking her hand and shaking it. "It was my pleasure. Now, I'll want to see him back here in a week, just to recheck everything and make sure everything is going okay. I also have the name of good, on duty psychiatrist, if Loki wants to talk to anyone before he's discharged. I would recommend seeking out a therapist either way, if Loki doesn't already have one."

"He does." Odin supplies. "Dr. Banner. He sees Loki twice a week."

Dr. Strange nods.

"That's good." He says. "I can send Dr. Settler in here if you like. Loki, would you like to see anyone before you go?"

Loki exhales shakily, tears still streaming from his eyes. He wipes at them clumsily before shaking his head.

"You're sure?" Dr. Strange presses one last time. "She's very nice, and I think she could maybe help you."

Loki just nods, not saying anything.

"Okay." The doctor concedes. "Well, if none of you have any other questions, I'll have a nurse give you those prescriptions. You should be able to pick them up at any pharmacy. In the mean time, Loki, you can get dressed, and you should be out of here soon."

Frigga and Odin gives their thanks one last time, and then the doctor is gone, off to see to other patients.

The room falls silent for several minutes then.

Frigga knows how hard that was for her son, how humiliated he feels. Still, it does nothing to prepare her when she says his name, intending to ask if he's alright, to reassure him that what the doctor said had been good news, and the first thing Loki says is an apology.

"I'm sorry." He blurts, his voice thick and broken.

Frigga blinks, pausing.

"Loki, don't..." she starts, horrified.

"I... I know I-I-I'm an e-embarrassment t... to you. To... to all of you. I know that and... a-a-and I'm sorry. I'm s-sorry. You t-tried to tell me and I w-wouldn't... I wouldn't listen and now, now you have to deal with this, w-with me and..."

"Loki, no, oh... please don't do this." Frigga begs, her heart shattering into pieces. "Odin, tell him, please..."

"Loki," Odin starts, stepping forward and reaching down, taking hold of Loki's hand.

Loki stiffens visibly for a moment, keeping his face turned away.

"Son, this isn't your fault. We mean that when we say it. Alright? This isn't your fault, and we don't blame you for any of this. You... you aren't an embarrassment. You haven't... haven't brought shame to me or to any of us. Listen, I know..."

Odin pauses, looking away for a moment, and Frigga knows this is hard for him, that he's struggling. He's never been good at expressing his emotions. He's always been so bottled up, himself raised by a father who never showed him any, real affection. He's always struggled with Loki's need for proof, with his youngest son's longing to be shown he's loved. Odin has never been any good at that sort of thing.

It's why she can't help but feel proud of him now, and grateful. Because Loki needs that reassurance now more than ever. He needs to know he's loved.

"I know I haven't always been the best father to you." Odin continues finally, looking back towards Loki, and Loki is wound tight as a bowstring where he sits, still unable to look at his father. "I know we've had our difficulties, mostly... mostly due to my own pig headedness and pride. I know I haven't... I haven't told you enough, not nearly enough, that I love you. But I do Loki. I love you. You're my son, and I'm proud of you. You've never given yourself enough credit. But I'm proud of how brilliant you are. And how strong. How you've always been so independent, not giving a damn if you had anyone's approval or not, mine included. I get angry at you Loki because I worry about you. Like any father does for his son. I want you to be okay. And you're so difficult to talk to sometimes, for me anyway. But I care about you and Thor and your mother more than anything in the world, and that's why. It's never been... never been because I'm ashamed of you. It's never been that."

For long seconds then, Loki doesn't move, doesn't say anything, only continuing to sit there, tears now streaming down his face, until at last he lifts a shaking hand to wipe them from his cheeks, to wipe at his eyes.

"... I love you too Dad." He says, his voice a trembling exhale. He looks up at Odin, eyes red and watery, young face lined in so much pain and fear, Frigga can hardly bear to look at him.

Her husband bends down then, and wraps his arms round Loki, pulling him into a hug, and Loki hugs him back, burying his face against his father's chest, looking so much like the little boy Frigga remembers raising.

"It'll be okay son." Odin tells him softly, bending down and kissing the crown of Loki's head. "I promise. It'll all be alright."


	11. Chapter 11

Loki has just turned eleven years old, and he knows already that he is gay.

In truth, he's known for a long time. Known as well as a child his age can. As far as he can understand what it even means.

He knows that when he looks at other boys, he feels funny and interested in a way he doesn't when he looks at girls. Feels his stomach twist in a strange way, almost like he's going to be sick, but not quite. Feels even more shy, feels embarrassed and excited and worried. 

Knows sometimes he wants to kiss other boys, though he doesn't know why. 

Loki knows also that this is a bad thing. Very, very bad, and that anyone knowing it is even worse.

Though sometimes it feels to Loki like everyone must know.

The other kids at school call him “faggot” and “queer” and “sissy”. They look at him like they hate him. And Mom and Dad don't know, because he knows it would only upset them, same with Thor, so he doesn't say anything, about how almost every day the other kids beat him up. They're almost always careful to leave his face alone, so they don't get in trouble, except for when Loki can't keep from talking back, and then they'll punch him in the mouth or the eye. It's worse because they're all so much bigger and stronger than him. It wouldn't be much better, even if he was in a school with kids the same age, because he's so scrawny. But he's skipped ahead several grades, and is in high school. The other kids hate that about him too.

Sometimes they leave Loki so bruised and in pain from the way they kick and hit him all over, that he can hardly move, and it's really hard then, to hide it from his family.

And he doesn't want them to know. He doesn't want them to know he's exactly what the other kids say he is, because then they'll hate him too.

Sometimes it makes Loki cry, to think about how disappointed Mom and Dad and Thor would be, if they knew he was a fag. Dad especially. Thor's so perfect. He's so strong and good looking and successful. He'd just started university, had gotten in on an athletic scholarship of course. There was nothing “sissy” about him, nothing girly. He was as big and strong as Dad, easy, maybe even bigger and stronger.

Nobody messed with Loki when Thor was with him, because they knew Thor would mess them up if they tried.

But, ever since he'd gone away to college, and the other kids knew he wasn't around anymore to pick Loki up after school, there'd been nothing anymore to hold them back. That's almost always when it happened. At the end of the day. They always somehow found Loki, and cornered him, and then...

He shakes his head, trying not to think about it. Trying not to worry. He's got a new route he's gonna try today, and hopefully they won't find him. He hopes...

If they do, he'll just tell them to go fuck themselves. At least then he'll get to see them really pissed off before they lay into him.

Right now, though, he can't stop staring at Steve.

That's Steve Rogers, the best looking guy in his school, and Loki's been crushing on him for a long, long time. He doesn't think Steve even knows he exists, which isn't a surprise. 

Steve is about the closest thing to Thor that Loki's ever seen. Big and blonde and strong as an ox. He's the captain of the soccer and lacrosse teams, and he's always seemed like a really nice, cool guy to Loki too. Not that Loki would really know. He's never talked to Steve personally.

Well, Loki likes to imagine he's really nice. Thor is, and Thor was and is the captain of every sports team he's ever been on. Just because you were a jock didn't mean you had to be a jerk.

It's ridiculous anyway. Steve's into girls. He's with Peggy Carter. Even if he were gay, it's not like he'd want to be with someone like Loki.

He knows he should stop staring before someone notices. He should focus on the teacher and what he's saying. But it's hard. It's really hard.

Steve is sitting a couple rows over from him, in the same isle, listening attentively to the lessen, like he's supposed to be. 

Every time Loki forces himself to look away, a few moments later, he finds his eyes back on the older boy.

He thinks about Steve sometimes, when he... God. He knows it's gross and wrong, but he can't always help it.

He shouldn't be thinking about this stuff.

He shifts in his seat, thinking about it now, an uncomfortable tightness in the groin of his pants. He's got to stop or someone...

A hard impact against the back of his head throws Loki violently from his thoughts, his head snapping forward as he chokes on a shocked gasp.

Loud giggling catches his ear a moment later.

“Hey, Rogers, you see this faggot checking you out?” The kid behind him laughs.

Steve, to Loki's utter mortification, hears the kid and turns, looking directly at him.

Loki looks away, his face heating instantly. Oh God, he thinks, what just happened?

He expects any second then for Steve to start laughing along with the other kid, to start making fun of him.

Instead, he hears Steve say...

“Leave him alone man. He's just a little kid.”

The kid behind Loki scoffs, muttering out something about whatever. But Loki hardly hears him.

Yeah, Steve Rogers seems like a nice guy. He probably thought telling the other kid to let him alone was the nice thing to do too. Only it's just made Loki feel all the more humiliated. Of course that's how Steve would see him. Just some little kid to feel sorry for.

Stupid, he thinks, that he would ever even imagine he'd have any kind of chance with someone like that.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Loki stares at himself in the mirror, and thinks about what a complete loser nothing he is.

They'd finally let him go home from the hospital this afternoon. 

Mom had insisted that he come stay with her and Dad, even though he'd wanted to go with Thor back to his apartment. 

He hadn't put up much of an argument, and when Thor had said he would come stay with Mom and Dad too, Loki had just given in. 

He was passed the point of embarrassment now anyway. He didn't think he could be any more humiliated in front of his family than he already had been.

But that was the story of his life, he supposes. If they hadn't been disappointed in him before, they most certainly had to be now.

Staring back at his reflection, he hardly recognizes himself, his eyes bloodshot red, still deeply blackened, similarly dark and ugly bruising running across the bridge of his nose and along both sides of his jaw. His cheeks and eyes are so sunken, his face looks like a skull, like some grotesque death mask. There are the impressions of fingers around his throat and neck, and Loki tries vainly to shove the memories from his mind, of Thanos holding him down, his massive, powerful hands around his neck, squeezing, suffocating...

He turns away, his eyes stinging, heart beating uncomfortably hard against his ribs, and wonders if this is ever going to go away. If he's ever going to not be afraid ever again.

Looking down at his wasted, scrawny body does nothing to banish the thoughts and fear. He's just as bruised and beaten and disgusting there.

He tries to focus on the special lice shampoo in his hand, reading the instructions for what must be the tenth time.

They'd stopped by a pharmacy to pick up all his various prescriptions after they'd left the hospital earlier, on the way to Mom and Dad's house.

Loki had been too embarrassed to go in, and had been grateful to Mom and Dad for doing it for him, and to Thor for staying in the car with him.

He didn't want to be alone anymore. Was too afraid...

Breathing in deeply, he finally opens the bottle and squeezes a large amount of it out into the palm of his hand. It stinks, and Loki feels his face grimace at the smell. He's supposed to rub this shit all over his body, and then leave it on for twenty minutes?

But then, he supposes he doesn't have a choice.

Mom had offered to help him, but of course he couldn't bear it. He was so embarrassed. He'd thought he was going to die from the humiliation when Dr. Strange had gone over everything with him at the hospital.

His family knew, they had to know. You didn't get three separate STD's from one person. You didn't... didn't...

Oh God, he thinks suddenly, nobody... nobody is ever going to want to touch him ever again. Nobody is ever going to want to be with him. Not if they knew. Not if they knew he'd been raped. Not just once even. He doesn't... he doesn't even know how many times it had happened. There are so many flashes in his memory, feelings of suffocating, overwhelming terror and confusion and disgust. He's disgusted by himself. He can only imagine then what anyone else would think.

They'd hate him. They'd look at him like the pathetic, grotesque nothing that he is. Nobody would ever want to be with him if they knew. If they knew he was so weak and pitiful that he couldn't even stop women from raping him. Couldn't fight any of them off. Couldn't even talk his way out of it, when he'd always thought he was so clever, so much smarter than everyone else.

He's going to be alone for the rest of his life, he thinks then. He's always going to be alone.

And suddenly he's crying again, sobbing desperately.

He presses his hands to his mouth, trying to stifle the sound before someone hears him.

Only he can't stop, weak, sharp whimpers slipping past his fingers and filling the small space of the bathroom.

He doesn't want to do this. Doesn't want to be this.

Thanos had said so many things to him. Had told him he was so many things. 

“You're nothing but a faggot Loki.” He can hear the older man's voice in his head, even now. “Nothing but a dirty whore. Fuckin' cum bucket. I'll bet you're secretly loving every second of this, aren't you?”

“No,” Loki chokes out, as if Thanos can hear him. As if he could ever hear him.

He doesn't even know how he ended up on his knees, his fingers fisted in his hair, the special shampoo smeared all over. The tile is cold and hard against his bare knees, the tears running hot down his face.

“No,” he whimpers again, voice barely a whisper. “I didn't enjoy it. I didn't w-want it. Oh God, God...”

He jumps, losing his balance and slamming his shoulder against the cold porcelain of the toilet bowl when a knock suddenly sounds on the door.

“Loki?” He hears Thor's voice call through. “Are you alright in there?”

Loki grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes tighter shut, tears still streaming down his cheeks. 

Idiot, he thinks miserably to himself.

“... I-I'm... I'm alright.” He calls after a moment, trying in vain to keep his voice steady. “I'm just figuring out how this sh-shampoo works.”

There's a long beat of silence, and Loki knows Thor can probably hear the tears in his voice.

“... Are you sure?” His brother finally asks. “I can come help you if...”

“No.” Loki calls back urgently. “No, I'm al-alright. I'll be out soon.”

Another pause.

For a moment, Loki fears Thor won't listen to him. That he'll just come charging in like he always does, intent to help, but like always with his brother, unknowingly just making things worse.

“Okay.” He at last hears Thor say, and Loki sags in relief, laying his forehead against the toilet seat. “Mom's making dinner.” His brother goes on, his voice hopeful. “It should be ready by the time your out.” 

“Okay Thor.” Loki answers weakly. “... Thanks. T-tell... tell Mom I'll be out in half an hour maybe?”

“Okay Loki.” Thor replies.

Loki listens to his brother's footsteps as he moves away from the door, down the hall.

He feels bad. He knows Thor is only trying to help. But he just can't deal with it right now. 

He just wants to be alone.

//

Odin watches Loki carefully as his son pulls out a chair at the dining table and sits down.

His movements are gingerly, slow. He's so obviously in a great amount of pain, and just as obviously trying to hide it, and something about that makes Odin's heart ache almost physically. 

He hates this. Hates that his boy feels like he needs to hide the fact that he's hurting at all, like he thinks everyone here will somehow be ashamed of him if he lets them see it.

He hates it worse because he knows, in his own pride and frustration and failure, he's at least partly responsible for Loki feeling that way.

He'd been so hard on the boy when he was growing up. In part, he thinks, it's because his own father was that way with him. 

Bor had never tolerated any kind of weakness, or what could be construed as weakness. He'd used to tell Odin never to cry, never to complain, never to be anything less than what had been his ideal of a man. He's used to hit Odin, and hard, if he ever acted in any way his father disapproved of, and Odin, though he'd despised his father on a certain level for it, and vowed never to become anything like him, had done just that.

He'd never hit Loki. Not ever, ever would he hit his children.

But he'd, unconsciously or not, ended up pushing the same expectations and demands on both Thor and Loki that Bor had done on him.

But while Thor had been like him, had dealt with it in the same way Odin dealt with it, at times unhappy and angry, but still understanding, and more or less unaffected, Loki had been different.

Loki, since the time he and Frigga had adopted him, since he was nothing more than a toddler, had been what could only be described as painfully sensitive. The boy had always felt things too deeply, had always taken everything so completely to heart.

Odin knew a large part of that was because Loki was so intelligent. 

He saw things other people simply didn't, was so awfully aware and in tune with things, could feel shifts in mood and behavior so acutely. You couldn't hide anything from Loki. And that had worked against him where Odin had always been concerned, because Odin so often found himself infuriatingly frustrated at the boy, for the way his youngest son's intelligence also lent him the ability to know just the right thing to do or say to make someone angry.

Odin still cringes inwardly to think of some of the shouting matches he and Loki had so often gotten into.

More often than not, it had been Odin's fault. He can admit that to himself now. For the way he had constantly harassed the boy for not being what Odin had expected him to be, or rather, wanted him to be.

It was because Odin had been afraid for Loki. Like he'd finally told him in the hospital. He had used to worry so much about his son, because he could see how sensitive Loki was, and how fragile that made him, how vulnerable. 

He and Frigga had known Loki was gay early on. When he was probably nine or ten, they'd started discussing it with each other. Frigga, of course, had been the first to bring it up as a possibility.

Odin hadn't wanted to believe it. Not because he had a problem with Loki being attracted to the same sex. It wasn't that. It was just because it would make his life so much harder, when Loki's life had already been so difficult. When he'd already had such a hard time making any friends, or fitting in with any group.

People didn't know what to make of Loki because he was so smart. That was how it always was. Someone that intelligent never made easy friends, not when he was so different, and people were always afraid of what wasn't like them.

When Loki had finally come out to them then, he'd reacted badly, stupidly, he knows. He'd let his own emotions get the better of him, and had selfishly turned the whole situation into something about him, instead of Loki, who had had so much courage to come out to them in the first place.

Odin knows he'd damaged his relationship with his son even further by doing so, and it was something he still hadn't been able to forgive himself for.

And then when Loki had gotten involved with that Thanos...

Odin doesn't think he'd ever been more terrified in his life.

Odin had taken one look at that thuggish bastard and known he was trouble, known immediately he had a cruel streak in him which wasn't the sort to ever be quenched.

Loki was small. He wasn't physically powerful like Thor, or even Odin himself. When he'd been a child, he'd been unusually and early on even dangerously undersized, and had always suffered from a proclivity towards illness.

As he'd grown older, the numerous illnesses he'd suffered as a child had left a very real impact on him, his constitution remaining somewhat weak and compromised, and he still tended to get sick far more often than most, grown adults. On top that that, Loki suffered from what had always been severe asthma, and it left him unable to ever, really condition his body into a stronger frame.

Even if he'd been able to, Odin knows, he never would have been able to defend himself against someone like Thanos.

Odin's panic had, again, caused him to act irrationally and stupidly. Instead of talking calmly about his concerns with Loki, he had exploded in a rage of desperation to make his young, inexperienced and vulnerable son see the mistake he was making, and of course, as usual, Loki had responded by pulling away, thinking he couldn't trust his own father.

And now this had happened.

Odin had always been too good at denial. 

When months had started to go by without them hearing a word from their youngest, after Thor had told he and Frigga that his brother had moved in with Thanos, Odin had told himself every lie he could come up with to convince himself that it was just Loki being belligerent, being proud, that was all. That nothing was really wrong.

Odin had known though. He'd known something wasn't right. Loki, no matter how bad his relationship with Odin became, had never neglected his mother. He had always made a point, every day, to either talk to her on the phone or come and see her. 

It hadn't been right, and Odin had known.

After a time, he'd even begun actively trying to get in contact with his son, along with Frigga. Constantly calling Loki's cell phone. But his boy never answered, and Loki had never told them where Thanos lived. Odin had tried finding out, but the son of a bitch hadn't been listed anywhere.

That was when Odin had started to really become afraid. When he'd realized he didn't know where Loki was, or what had happened to him.

He'd been thinking for a long time about contacting the police, but fear of driving his son farther from him had prevented him, stupidly. He'd been worried that if he called the police on Thanos, Loki would only grow to hate him more.

He should have done something though. Christ, if he had...

He had never imagined something so unspeakably horrific as this. Never in his worst fears had allowed himself to imagine what Thanos had actually done to his child, to his son...

He knew Thor was angry at him. That his eldest didn't think he was showing enough anger, enough thirst for revenge...

If Thor only knew.

Odin was just barely holding it together, in truth.

Every time he looked at Loki, it was like a deafening siren going off in his head, telling him to go out there, to find the piece of shit that had done this and kill him, tear him limb from limb and bury him where no one would ever find him.

He wanted to murder Thanos. He wanted the bastard to suffer in the worst ways possible...

He knew, for Loki's sake, that he couldn't.

Watching him now, the anger drains away from Odin and he is left only with a crushing sense of sadness.

Loki is so timid now. Odin can see it. He can see it in the way his son shrinks away every time someone comes near him. In the way he startles badly whenever there is too loud a noise, or someone touches him unexpectedly. In how he won't look at any of them now when he speaks, or when they speak to him. The way he keeps his voice at barely above a whisper...

It's so unlike Loki. So unlike the brave, unapologetic, brilliant, courageous, sure young man Odin had always known.

Loki had always had insecurities, he knew. Had known that much of Loki's confidence was an act he put up as a means of defending himself. But, still, it was Loki's choice, Loki's decision to be that way, to present that image to the world, even if deep down he had always been a quiet, even shy person. Reserved and studious and gentle. Afraid even. Yet he had never let that fear cripple him, had never let it control him. 

Only this... this was the result of what someone else had done to Loki. This wasn't his son's choice at all. 

This was Loki's fear now taking hold and winning, because someone had abused him, had abused his trust and his love and his vulnerability. Had used those things against him to hurt him in the worst possible way.

Odin watches his wife as she sets the dish of lasagna out on the dining table, cutting and scooping a good sized portion and putting it onto the plate in front of Loki. 

She'd made the dish for him tonight. It had always been Loki's favorite meal of hers.

He tells her thank you in a voice that's barely audible, and Frigga reaches out, brushing his hair back from his forehead, massaging his scalp.

Loki won't look at her.

“Were you able to figure everything out alright in there?” She asks softly, and Loki nods.

“Yeah, it... it wasn't hard.” He tells her, and Frigga forces a smile, nodding. 

“That's good.” She answers. “I made lasagna tonight. I know you've always loved it, so...”

“... Thank's Mom.” Loki says again.

Odin can hardly stand this. The tension in the room is so thick, it's almost tangible.

Thor keeps looking at Loki with such a worried, helpless expression, hardly even seeming to notice when Frigga serves him.

When she finally sits down with her own plate, ready to begin, Odin can't himself stop watching Loki, unable to help noticing how his youngest son doesn't even touch his food, simply shifting it around on his plate, his face so utterly despondent, that just to look at him makes Odin's eyes sting.

Loki needs to eat, he thinks then a little desperately. His son is so horrifyingly thin now. Incredibly more so than his naturally thin frame. And noticing that, Odin then can't help imagining how it is Loki grew to become such. He looks like he hasn't eaten at all in weeks, months even. And he realizes, abruptly, that Thanos must have been starving him.

Oh Jesus, Odin thinks, he can't bear this. Can't bear to think of how frightened his son must have been, how hurt and alone.

“You should eat something Loki.” He blurts without thinking, his voice coming out harsher than he had intended it to.

Loki visibly flinches at his voice, dropping his fork and going stiff as a bow string pulled taught.

Odin feels his wife's hand land gently on his wrist, and he blinks, glancing at her, seeing her shaking her head silently no.

Damn fool, he chastises himself, even as he hears Loki says softly...

“I'm trying.”

“We know honey.” Frigga tells him, Odin feeling suddenly paralyzed with shame. 

He hadn't meant to pressure his son.

“Just eat what you can.” Frigga finishes, and to Odin's relief, Loki nods, saying nothing.

Only that too seems wrong to him. Loki should get annoyed, at least, at being pestered. Get angry even.

This sudden, docile acceptance doesn't sit right, doesn't feel right.

What did you do to my boy, you son of a bitch, he thinks, feelings his hands clench to fists, his teeth grinding together, a fresh wash of rage rolling almost dizzyingly through him. What did you do?


	12. Chapter 12

Thor turns to look when he feels a weight fall against his shoulder, and he sees his brother with his head lying against him, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in an even, slow pattern.

He's sleeping, Thor realizes, and he can't help the relieved smile which tugs at his lips then. He wants Loki to rest so badly, to just get better. Wants for Loki to have a moment of peace.

His brother had seemed so despondent, so sad to him during dinner and all through the evening. He'd hardly spoken to any of them, not even Mom, had hardly been able to look any of them in the eye. 

Loki had always been prone towards bouts of depression. Had often fallen sullen and quiet and withdrawn, ever since he'd been a child. But this was worse. Even during those times, Loki had never lacked certainty, had never seemed so retiring or timid. He'd been shy as a boy, but he'd always pushed past it, and as a late teen, he'd exuded out and out confidence. Now... now his shyness seems to have taken hold of him again, only mixed with an awful fear, and that same withering sadness which has always plagued him.

After dinner, Thor had tried suggesting to Loki that they watch a film together in the den, trying someway, anyway, to take his brother's mind off of... everything.

Loki had agreed listlessly, and Thor had tried increasing his interest by telling him he should pick the movie, something he remembered he and his brother constantly arguing about growing up together.

But still, Loki had seemed unmotivated and apathetic. He'd finally chosen “Sex in the City” after Thor had insisted, and Thor had been too relieved that his brother had chosen anything at all to even think of objecting. A few years ago, Thor knows, he would have bitched and moaned and rolled his eyes at the selection, because of course Loki would choose something girly like that. 

Now, he didn't even remotely have the heart to say anything negative. 

He never used to think when he'd made fun of his brother in the past, never understood how much it actually hurt Loki, because Loki had always hidden it so well.

He should have realized earlier on, Thor thinks, from how after a time, Loki had stopped sharing any of his interests or passions at all. 

He'd always thought, stupidly, that Loki didn't mind the teasing, that he took it in stride.

The truth was, with his own maturity, Thor had begun to understand that his brother had stopped sharing those things because he was afraid he would get laughed at. That that fear was based in reality, because Thor did used to laugh at Loki for the things he liked, used to harass him relentlessly and make fun of him.

Just thinking about it now, seeing his brother beside him, bruised and battered and looking so small, resting limply against him, he seems so horribly vulnerable to Thor, and the thought of laughing at him for anything, for any reason at all, makes Thor feel suddenly like he can't breathe.

Thor had kept looking over at him during the film, and it had been the greatest relief, every time he saw Loki smile at what was happening on screen. 

He wouldn't laugh, but sometimes he smiled, even if weakly, and it gave Thor a dim hope that he had actually done something to help his brother.

The film is just reaching its end now, and Thor tries to be as careful and quiet as he can be as he reaches for the remote to shut it off, not wanting to wake Loki.

His brother has been so exhausted, and sleeping so fitfully.

He's just shifting Loki over, resting his brother's head on his lap, trying to think how best to get him to his bed, when Mom walks in, walking quietly towards them and sitting down in the recliner beside the couch.

She watches Loki intently for a moment, her face drawn with the same concern which has been present since Thor first called her and she'd come straight away to his apartment.

“How is he?” She finally asks, her voice a whisper.

“... Okay, I think.” Thor says back, just as quietly. “He fell asleep during the movie. I was gonna try getting him to his bed, but I don't want to wake him.”

Mom nods, keeping her eyes on Loki.

She reaches out then, brushing Loki's hair back behind his ear. Loki shifts a little, turning his head and burying his face against Thor's stomach, muttering out something unintelligible. 

For a moment, Thor sees Mom's face crumple, and she looks away, pressing a clenched fist to her mouth.

“Mom,” Thor starts, worried, and she shakes her head.

“I'm alright.” She says, her voice shaking noticeably. “I just... I wish there was more I could do. I... I can't bear to see him suffer anymore. He's been through so much and... he's so young. I just can't bear it.”

Thor's eyes burn, his throat tight.

“I know Mom.” He says. “I feel the same. I...” I was supposed to protect him, he thinks, but somehow he can't say it aloud. He's my little brother, and I was supposed to protect him, and I didn't.

Mom, as she always does, seems to know anyway exactly what he's thinking, and she reaches out, taking gentle hold of his wrist, looking at him.

“Oh, Thor... you've never understood how much Loki loves you, how much he admires you. You've always been a wonderful brother to him.”

Thor feels his lips thin, and it's his turn now to look away, shaking his head.

“... I don't deserve it.” He mutters, feeling the weight of his failure more keenly than ever.

“Thor...” he hears Mom say, and he hesitates a moment before forcing himself to look back at her, unable to keep the tears from his eyes now. 

She smiles vaguely at him, her own eyes over-bright.

“You know, Loki always used to talk to me about how much he wanted to be just like you. He used to say you were like a real life super hero.” She laughs softly, and Thor feels his heart sink. “He felt that way because to him, you always were a hero baby. He wanted to be like you because you were good and strong and kind, because you were always there for him, and kind to him, when no one else was. You never let Loki down. You have to know that. He's always felt safest around you. That's why he went with you, when he and his father were having so many problems. That's why he went to you first, after... after he got away from that man.”

“But I wasn't th-there for him with this. I let him go with Thanos, even knowing how dangerous that monster was. I let Loki go and I shouldn't have.”

“We all did Thor.” Frigga replies. “You, and me, and your father. We all knew Thanos was dangerous, and we still let Loki go. And you know how stubborn your brother can be. It's almost always been impossible to tell him what to do.”

“... I still should've tried.” Thor goes on, his voice dangerously close to braking. “I should have forced him to stay. If I'd known what would happen...”

“You couldn't know Thor. Oh, baby, you couldn't have ever known. You can't blame yourself. This isn't anyone's fault but Thanos'. He did this to Loki, not you.”

Thor nods, the movement jerky and forced.

He knows Mom is just trying to make him feel better. Trying to help. He knows this is just as hard for her, that likely she's struggling with just as many feelings of guilt and helplessness. Still, he can't accept what she's saying. Can't believe he isn't, in some capacity at least, responsible.

He can't tell her that though. He doesn't want to make this harder on her or Dad than it has to be.

“Do you think I should carry him to bed?” He asks, purposefully changing the subject. “I don't want to wake him.”

“He shouldn't sleep on the couch.” Mom says. “Not with his injuries. He'll feel awful in the morning, so yeah, I'd take him up. He'll be alright.”

Thor nods, glad for her to have made the decision for him.

“Okay,” he starts, shifting Loki as carefully as he can to get his arms underneath his brother's thin frame. Loki mumbles again, his brow furrowing slightly, mouth pulling down into a vague frown. But he doesn't wake, and Thor stands easily with him, cradling him against his chest.

He kisses Mom goodnight, telling her he'll see her in the morning.

Dad had given Thor as much leave as he needed and wanted from the law office, and Thor was planning on utilizing it. He didn't know when he would be going back to work. Loki needed him now, and so that was where he was going to stay, with his brother.

He tries as best he can not to jostle Loki around too much as he carries him up the stairs and to his old room, and he's relieved when they get there without him waking his brother.

Loki really must be exhausted, he thinks as he bends carefully to pull back the covers on his brother's bed. Normally, the slightest sound tended to wake Loki up.

He's equally careful laying Loki down on the mattress, shifting him around until he's all the way on the bed, his long frame making it a bit of a struggle.

He moves then to Loki's feet, untying his shoelaces and pulling his sneakers off, taking his socks off next.

Even Loki's feet are bruised and cut up, the pads of them still torn to shreds, the skin irritated an angry red and black.

There isn't a part of him which doesn't bear the mark of what's happened to him, Thor thinks dismally, his eyes again beginning to sting.

He hopes, at least, that the bruises will start to fade. It's nothing compared to what Loki must be going through inside, but at least it would be something.

Thor moves around the foot of the bed, pulling the covers back up over his brother as he goes. He bends down, laying a hand softly along Loki's crown and kissing him along the temple.

Still Loki doesn't stir, and for long moments, Thor only watches him, before finally straightening.

He looks back at his brother one last time before killing the lights, closing the door only partway behind him.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Loki glances around himself, a sick feeling of apprehension sinking into his gut.

This is a bad neighborhood. Really bad. It's not like the area Thanos lives in is upscale. Not at all. But this place is a whole other level of unsavory.

Loki doesn't think he's seen a single building which hasn't fallen into severe decrepitude and disrepair. And on every single street corner, he's seen what he knows are hookers and pimps and drug dealers.

He doesn't need to see any weapons to know most of them have guns or knives hidden beneath their coats and shirts.

He stays close to Thanos, nervous and worried. 

He knows he acts tough a lot of the time, acts fearless and hard or whatever. He's acted that way for a long time, because he figured out a when he was a lot younger that, the less reaction you gave to people, the less likely they were to keep messing with you.

But the truth was, and Loki only ever admitted this to himself, he came from a wealthy background, came from privilege and comfort and class.

He'd never really been around this kind of life. Never known what it meant to be poor. Never been around real criminals. He'd gotten into a little bit of trouble with some other kids a few times. Had even gotten arrested for vandalizing an abandoned property, had spent a few hours in a holding cell before Dad had come and bailed him out.

That had been the scariest part of the whole thing. When Dad had shown up. 

He'd been so angry. God, Loki had thought he was going to pee his pants, he'd been so frightened. He doesn't think he'd ever seen Dad so pissed, and that was saying a lot, considering how often Dad was really mad at him.

Still, as angry as his father often was at him, Loki always knew, deep down, that Odin would never, actually hurt him. Not physically anyway.

He never really felt unsafe around Dad.

Now, he felt unsafe.

He wishes Thanos hadn't made him come here. He doesn't know why he'd even agreed to it.

That was something he'd begun to realize he did when around Thanos. He always felt an inexplicable need to please his boyfriend, felt almost afraid not to. 

Thanos was rough. He hurt Loki a lot, though Loki kept telling himself it wasn't intentional. Thanos hadn't... hit him, but... he grabbed him a lot, pulled and pushed him, his powerful hands always bruising and painful.

Loki often stood looking at himself in the mirror, looking over his naked torso, seeing deep black and blue bruises in the shape of Thanos thick fingers.

Thanos would lye with him in bed and kiss each mark, telling him he was sorry, that he often forgot his own strength... That he never meant to hurt Loki.

Loki wanted to believe him. God, he wanted to.

Thanos was the first man who had ever shown any real interest in him. Who had ever really taken him out, had actually, seriously dated him, taken care of him outside of his family.

Loki had never been treated that way by anyone. Taken to the most expensive restaurants, bought beautiful clothes, and spoken to with a consideration and respect that made him feel like Thanos actually saw him as an equal.

Loki knew he wasn't. 

That was what had made Loki so enamored of him at first.

Thanos was incredibly handsome, with his sandy brown hair and blue, almost purple colored eyes and olive colored skin. He was as tall as Thor, and built just about as broadly, just about as athletic. 

That had been enough to catch Loki's attention and keep it from the moment Thanos had introduced himself. 

But when Thanos had started talking... Loki had fallen, and fallen hard.

Thanos, if possible, was even more intelligent than he was good looking. So well educated and learned. He could talk to Loki about anything, about things which, normally, when Loki tried to talk to people about, they would get a glazed, bored, even annoyed look on their faces, because they just didn't understand.

Thanos though, he could keep up with Loki and then some. Everything from mathematics and science, to music and literature and art. Everything Loki loved and knew about, Thanos knew as much and more. 

He was the first person Loki had ever known, besides Mom and Dad, that Loki felt like he could really learn from.

Only, lately, it had seemed to Loki that his boyfriend was growing more distant, even, at times, seeming cold and indifferent towards him, even snapping angrily at him.

Whenever that happened, Loki felt a cold fear prickle down his spine, freezing him where he was, his mouth suddenly dry and a feeling of almost nauseating dread taking hard hold of him.

He tried shoving it away, not really understanding where it was coming from, or why. Despite Thanos sometimes grabbing him too roughly, again he reminds himself, his boyfriend had never, actually lain a hand on him with the intention to hurt.

He was just incredibly strong, and Loki was exceptionally weak.

That was all it was.

“Thanos, what are we doing here?” He finally asks, feeling more uneasy by the minute. He takes hold of his boyfriends hand, squeezing tightly.

“I told you baby, we're just meeting some friends.” Thanos smiled down at him. “I want to show you off to them.”

Loki didn't bother saying he wasn't particularly interested in meeting anyone from around here, and he certainly didn't want to be “shown off” to them.

“A-are you sure it's safe?” He asks instead, hating the way his voice audibly shakes.

It doesn't help when Thanos bursts into loud laughter, throwing his powerful arm round Loki's shoulders and squeezing him painfully tight against his side.

“No place is safe baby.” He says. “You should know that.”

Loki doesn't know what to say to that, and so he says nothing at all, instead fixing his gaze on the filthy ground, telling himself that Thanos won't let anything bad happen to him.

It isn't long before they arrive at a building which looks like every other in this neighborhood, abandoned and in a state of disrepair.

Only there's a man standing in front of the entrance, arms folded across his chest, a gun visibly holstered at his side. He's some sort of guard obviously, Loki thinks, feeling his gut tighten in fear.

Where the hell has Thanos taken him?

Wherever it is, the man seems to recognize Thanos right away, simply giving him a nod before stepping aside to let him through. Thanos barely looks at the man, keeping his arm around Loki as he pulls the buildings front door open.

Immediately, Loki is hit in the face with a blast of pounding, monotonous music, and he can't help the way he flinches back from it, his heart beating uncomfortably in his chest. 

Wherever they are, whoever these people are that Thanos is bringing him to meet, Loki just knows instinctualy that they're dangerous.

It's some sort of club they're in, though Loki never would have guessed it to look at it from the outside.

Inside, it's decked out as fancily as any high-end dance club in the city, with flashing strobe lights giving only brief glimpses of the mass of swaying, sweaty bodies, gyrating across the dance floor, and an oddly elegant, well lit bar situated along the large rooms back wall.

Loki can barely hear himself think in here though, the music deafeningly loud and the pulsating lights making him feel abruptly dizzy and sick.

He turns his face towards Thanos, pressing it against the older man's shoulder in an attempt to escape the club's assault on his senses.

He can feel Thanos laughing at him, but Loki doesn't care. He just wants to get out of here.

“This way babe.” Thanos yells against his ear a moment later, and the next instant, to Loki's indescribably relief, they move through a door, into another room, and the door closing behind them, the pounding music is reduced to a soft thumping noise, the strobing lights gone, replaces by regular bulbs.

Loki slumps in relief against Thanos' side.

The relief, though, doesn't last long, as Thanos begins walking them farther into the room, and Loki looks up, seeing a group of men standing around, socializing.

They all look similar to the man who had been guarding the club's entrance, all wearing the exact same outfit. Black leather vests and pants, no shirt underneath, and red headbands. Like some sort of biker gang. All of them big and meaty and mean looking, all of them carrying guns.

Unthinkingly, Loki pulls back, trying to halt his and Thanos' approach towards them.

But Thanos is so much stronger than he is, and he doesn't even seem to notice Loki's attempt, simply dragging him onward towards the group.

“Hey boss.” One of the men starts when finally he spots Thanos, and Loki stiffens.

Boss?

Thanos grins at them, nodding.

“Hey boys.” He says, dragging Loki along until they're standing within the group.

Loki doesn't want to be here. He feels almost nauseous with discomfort as he feels the eyes of the other men turn almost instantly on him, and he forces himself to look back, unwilling to let them intimidate him. Still, unconsciously, he presses himself harder against Thanos' side.

The men are rough looking, older, like Thanos himself. Some of them obviously in their 40s and 50s even, all of them bigger and stronger than Loki, just to look at them. None of them are shy about giving Loki the once over, and Loki can feel his body coiling with tension, not liking the look in their eyes at all. Not at all.

“How're things?” Thanos asks, his arm still round Loki's shoulders, and Loki is grateful for that. These men, whoever they are, they obviously respect Thanos. If what that one man called him is any indication, they know not to touch what's his too, and that makes Loki feel safer, if only a little.

“Good boss. Good. Everything's running smooth, just like you want it.”

Thanos smiles. That ugly, mean smile of his which Loki is growing more and more to hate. 

Loki isn't stupid, and things begin falling rapidly into place then. He's seen Thanos with his coke and pot and heroine. Seen him using, though not very often. He wasn't a heavy user, thank God, though he'd offered it to Loki a few times. Loki had always turned him down. He wasn't into that scene. Not anymore. He'd learned his lessen a long time ago now. Thanos, thankfully, seemed to respect that about him, and never pushed him beyond his initial offer.

Loki had suspected, early on, that Thanos was a dealer. His recreational use spoke to that. He was too together to be an addict, but he knew too much about drugs to not be in the life somehow.

Loki had tried convincing himself it was otherwise. The last thing he needed in his life at this point was to be involved in something illegal again. As it was, he'd already stopped going to see Dr. Banner, and hadn't spoken to anyone in his family except Mom for several weeks. 

Being around the drugs wasn't easy either. Loki may have kicked his own habit, but every time he saw Thanos' shooting up or snorting, or smoking, it was a struggle not to join him. He still had cravings, and those times when his mind refused to shut off and he felt like he was going to go mad, he wanted so badly just to take a hit of something. Just so he could relax, so he could stop thinking so much.

Not seeing Dr. Banner was starting to wear him down too. He hadn't realized how much his psychiatrist actually helped him until the visits stopped. Having Dr. Banner to speak to, to unload himself onto had, he had started to realize, been keeping him from falling so often into his depressions. Had been helping him to sort out all the confusing, painful thoughts in his head, keep them in order. Helped him not to always be so hard on himself too.

He hadn't been so great anyway about taking those pills Dr. Banner had prescribed him, but living with Thanos now, Loki never took them at all, his prescription having run out last month, and those, too, Loki had begun to realize, helped keep his mood balanced when he really needed it. Without them, Loki often felt overwhelmed and jittery, either over excited, hyper and unable to slow down, or so depressed, he wanted nothing more than to lock himself in a dark room and cry, unmotivated and listless and choking on his own, inexplicable grief.

Dr. Banner said he had Bipolar disorder. Loki didn't want to believe that. There was already so much wrong with him. He was already such a loser compared to his brother, and compared to Odin. He didn't need to add mental illness to the list. But it was becoming more and more obvious to him now that Dr. Banner, as usual, had been right. 

Sometimes Loki felt so alone.

Thanos didn't like it at all when Loki got depressed either. He actually got angry at Loki for it, would yell at him for “fucking things up”, he would say, bringing the mood down with his childish bouts of depression. He got so angry, sometimes, that Loki had at moment been sure Thanos would hit him.

But he never did.

Still, Loki did all he could now to cover up when he was feeling down. It wasn't easy. But he didn't want Thanos to hate him too, didn't want to be dumped because he couldn't control his mood. Didn't want Thanos to be angry at him...

Thanos loved him. He told him that all the time. He was the first person outside of his family who had ever said anything like that to him at all, and he didn't... he didn't want to lose that.

“... Loki. My boyfriend.” He's pulled back to the present by the sound of Thanos' voice, introducing him. “Say hello sweetheart. These boys are the Chitauri gang. Good boys.”

The Chitauri gang? What kind of a stupid...?

He forces the reaction down, swallowing thickly and making himself answer.

“... Hello.” He says flatly, refusing to look away at the lascivious glances the men are giving him. 

The group of them give cursory replies, nodding and grunting and Loki feels his lip curl in disdain. God, they're disgusting he thinks.

Thanos leans in against him, planting a wet, sloppy kiss along his temple.

“I just have to go take care of some business baby. I won't be gone long. My boys here can entertain you in the mean time.”

Loki feels his eyes widen in shock, what feels like a stone dropping into the pit of his stomach as he turns and stares up at his boyfriend in dismay.

“What?” He starts, disbelieving. “Thanos, wait...”

But Thanos is already turning to leave, striding towards another closed door, leaving Loki alone with the other men.

For a moment, Loki can hardly believe what's just happened. That Thanos would just leave him here with... 

He's pulled from his shock by the sound of a loud whistle, and he turns, seeing one of the men grinning at him knowingly.

“Looks like the boss scored himself a hot piece of ass this time.” The man says, half laughing.

For an instant, Loki's vision goes red, an almost uncontrollable rage, and he nearly lashes out, throwing himself at the bigger man in an ill conceived search for a fight.

He'd gotten beaten up that way when he was a kid more times than he could really remember.

He just barely manages to catch himself from ending up that way now, instead clenching his fists, his jaw setting hard, forcing himself to stay still.

He glares back at the man, lips thinning.

“I'm sure Thanos would love to hear your opinion on the matter.” He says after a moment, his voice surprisingly calm and cool.

If he was hoping to rattle the man, it doesn't work, the jackass only grinning wider, eyes shining.

“Yeah, he probably would.” He answers back, and if Loki felt uncomfortable before, he feels beyond agitated now. Sweat beads on his forehead and he can feel it running down the back of his shirt, making the material cling grossly to his skin. He can sense the eyes of all the men on him, and suddenly he feels naked, exposed.

A dozen different replies flit through his head, but he bites down on his tongue, getting the sense that talking back to these bozo's probably isn't in his best interest. Maybe he'll tell Thanos later. Maybe Thanos will put them in their place...

Instead, he just turns and begins to walk away, intending to go back out into the club area. He hates the noise and heat and lights, but it's better than this, he thinks.

He only makes it two steps though before he feels himself yanked back, violently, a meaty hand burying in the material of his jacket and throwing him against a wall, cracking the back of his head against the plaster.

For a moment, the world spins in dizzying circles, a swell of nausea churning up from the pit of his stomach.

An instant later, he feels a body pressed up against him, hot and heavy and stinking of sweat. Loki's vision comes back sharply into focus, and he sees it's the same man who had spoken to him before, pressed up to him, his knee working between Loki's legs, his fat forearm crushing against Loki's chest.

The man grins, his ruddy face half covered by a thick beard, his teeth a nasty yellow.

“Come on baby, don't be like that.” He starts, and Loki feels sick from the stench of his breath. “I bet you're just achin' to get fucked up the ass, huh? I know I sure would like to.”

And then the man grabs him, his hand reaching down between Loki's legs and cupping his groin, squeezing hard.

Loki panic's, a shot of dizzying fear washing through him, and without thinking, his lifts his arms up, shoving against the man's chest as hard as he can.

“Get the FUCK off me!” He yells, managing, somehow, to push the bastard away.

The second the weight of him is gone, Loki darts away, away from the wall, and away from the men. He doesn't stop to turn and look at them, wanting to get as far away, as quickly as possible.

“Fuckin' faggot.” He hears behind him, and Loki freezes, that same rage boiling up inside him.

He turns, and sees the men all looking after him, all smiling.

“What's the matter?” The same man starts, grinning wider. “Change your mind?”

Loki can feel himself trembling with anger and humiliation, his eyes stinging uncomfortably. But he won't cry. He won't. Fuck them, he thinks. Fuck them.

“And there's the irony.” He makes himself say, shoving his fear down. “One faggot to another.”

That wipes the grin off the bastards face, and Loki can't help but smile back at him.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” The man starts, voice thick with threat, but Loki doesn't care. He's tired of being talked to that way. Tired of being the butt of everyone's stupid fucking jokes.

“I called you a faggot.” Loki says boldly, and the man starts, launching himself forward, only to be caught by his friends and pulled back, one of them shaking his head and speaking low and rapidly to the man.

“You call me the same, and that's alright.” Loki goes on. He can feel his heart pounding painfully in his chest, the blood rushing in his ears. He's terrified, but he doesn't care. “You think it somehow makes you different, if you're the one giving and not receiving. But you still like to fuck men, don't you? And that makes you as much a queer as I am.”

The man nearly explodes, his friends struggling intensely to hold him back now as he lunges forward.

Loki flinches back, thinking for a moment they aren't going to succeed in holding him, thinking he's about to get the shit kicked out of him, again. But somehow the man's friends manage it.

“I'll kill you, you fuckin' faggot piece of shit! I'll fuckin' kill you!” He rages.

Loki just stares back at him, saying nothing.

He's got to get out of here, he thinks. Before these guys lose it and come after him.

“Calm down man.” One of the others says. “Seriously, just wait. It ain't worth it right now.”

Somehow, that seems to bring the man back down, his struggles against his friends suddenly stopping.

“I'm alright. I'm alright.” He assures them, never taking his eyes off Loki. 

Loki keeps looking back at him, refusing to yield, only turning at last when the others let the man go. He's just going to walk back to Thanos' place, he thinks. It's worth the risk over staying here. He'll just call Thanos later and tell him what happened. He'll understand, Loki thinks.

He hopes...

“I'll be seein' you around little boy.” He hears the man call out behind him, the amusement back in his voice.

Loki doesn't allow himself to stop this time. There's something too dangerous now in all of this. Too dangerous in what the man says. 

Whatever he means, Loki doesn't want to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive thank you's to all my readers and/or reviewers! Your support and feedback mean so much to me! If you have the chance, please leave me a comment!


	13. Chapter 13

A week since he's been back home, and he's still acting like a child, Loki thinks dismally. Still feels like a child. 

Thor had told him earlier that he had to go out on some errands, and asked Loki if he wanted to come along.

Loki had told him yes, shoving down his own hesitation and worry. 

He couldn't keep hiding away in their parent's home for the rest of his life, and besides which, he had started to feel antsy and cooped up.

Now though, he isn't so sure that was the right decision.

He feels wound tight enough to snap, glancing at every person they pass by with nauseating suspicion and even fear, staying nearly glued to Thor's side, finding himself desperately wanting to reach out and hold on to his older brother.

It's ridiculous, he knows. 

Thanos isn't... isn't going to just show up in the middle of broad daylight and abduct him. He knows that, logically. Especially not with Thor here, and all these other people around besides.

Thanos isn't stupid...

Still, logic rarely has any kind of relation to emotion, and Loki finds himself, after only an hour out, wishing deeply they could simply go back home.

He doesn't say so though. He doesn't want to humiliate himself even further.

Just like he doesn't say anything when Thor tells him to wait where they are a minute, that he'll be right back, that he just has to go inside a moment and talk to one of his and Father's client's.

Loki doesn't want to wait outside by himself. He feels sick, almost dizzy with fear as the words pass his brother's lips, his hand tightening convulsively round the ice cream cone Thor had bought for him earlier.

His brother asks him if it's alright, and Loki just nods silently, his face drawn and tight.

Thor asks him again, and Loki snaps angrily.

“Yes!” He says hotly. “I'm not a child Thor!”

Thor relents after that, and as soon as he disappears through the building's door, Loki wishes he'd asked again, that he hadn't told Thor he was fine.

He wasn't fine. He was terrified, his head spinning with fear, eyes plastered to the entrance Thor had gone through, as if keeping his gaze on it would somehow will Thor into coming back.

He stands there for nearly a full minute, an awful voice inside his head screaming at him that he's been abandoned, that Thor left him here, he left him, and... and now...

“Loki?”

Loki gasps, sharp and painful, the ice cream dropping from his fingers, smashing on the ground as he spins, his heart hammering against his ribcage, and runs smack dab into a broad, powerful chest, knocking him back against the brick wall of the building.

For a moment, blinding terror takes hold of him, seeming to choke him, his eyes wide and searching, and he thinks with certainty for those endless seconds that it's Thanos, that Thanos has come to take him back, to... oh God...

Only... it isn't Thanos. It's... 

“Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?! I didn't mean to scare you like that!”

Loki blinks, and for a moment doesn't believe what he's seeing.

Steve Rogers is standing there, looking back at him with startlingly blue eyes, almost viciously handsome, just the way Loki remembers he had been in high school, just as perfect as ever.

Steve's eyes drop from his face then, to the ground.

“Aw, jeez, I made you drop your ice cream. I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to scare you.” He says, looking back up at Loki.

Loki only stands there, speechless as his mind struggles to catch up with... everything.

Steve's face lines with concern then, looking back carefully, his hands raising as if worried Loki may fall.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asks. “Do... do you remember me? We, uh, we used to have classes together in... in high school. You were younger than the rest of us.”

Again, Loki blinks, trying to find his words, to order his thoughts again.

His heart still beats too hard in his chest, the remnants of fear still clogging his throat, replaced as it dissipates by embarrassment. He can feel his face turning red, his mouth falling open.

“Ss-Steve Rogers...” He stammers out finally after agonizingly long seconds. God, he's such an idiot.

Steve smiles then, dazzlingly perfect teeth showing, and Loki feels faint for a moment.

“I remember you because you were always making the rest of us look stupid.” Steve laughs lightly, and Loki looks away.

Of course, he thinks. Everyone always resented that about him. That the classes were always too easy for him. He used to get beat up on a regular basis because the teachers would always scold the other students for their lack of effort, always citing Loki's work as the way it should be done.

Whenever they'd done that, Loki remembers, he'd slouched down in his seat, his stomach tightening with dread, knowing he was in for a beating that day.

The teachers had never had any clue.

“... That was never my intention.” He mutters to himself then, forgetting for a moment that Steve is even there.

Steve seems to recognize then that he's said something upsetting, his own voice stiff and awkward.

“I... I know we never talked much in school, but I... uh, I always admired you. You know? For how smart you were.”

Loki nearly laughs at that.

The idea that Steve Rogers, super athlete and easily the most popular person at their school would even notice him, let alone admire him, was absurd. Only more so because Loki had had such a devastating crush on the guy, and had always been far too shy and uncertain of himself to even engage in any sort of conversation with the older boy.

But that was Rogers, Loki supposes. He'd always been a really nice guy. He'd been one of the few jocks back then who'd never laid a hand on him...

“Wow man, you've really grown up, haven't you?” Steve goes on then, just as awkwardly, and Loki feels suddenly bad, knowing he isn't exactly making it easy. He just... doesn't even know what to say. “Last time I saw you, you didn't even come up to my shoulder.”

That was true, Loki supposes, really only noticing now that he and Steve are about the same height, though the older boy is still roughly twice as broad as he is, and Loki still feels absurdly like some small child standing next to him.

Still, he tries smiling, nodding weakly.

“I... I was ten when I started high school, s-so...” he trails off, feeling his face heat again. Christ, he was making such an ass of himself. 

“Yeah, that's right. I remember.” Steve goes on, still smiling, like he's actually happy to see Loki. Loki can't even begin to understand why he would be.

An awkward silence settles between them then, and Loki struggles for something to say.

“S-so... you and... and Peggy Carter, d-did you... um...”

Loki doesn't even know why he's asking this. He guesses he's a sucker for having his heart crushed. Of course Steve and Peggy got married. They were like the perfect couple in high school. 

“Oh... oh, no. That... that's funny you should ask.” Steve laughs a little. “No, we actually didn't. We're still really good friends, but it just didn't really work out like that.”

“... Oh.” Loki blinks, taken aback. He hadn't expected that. At all.

“What about you?” Steve goes on. “Any, uh, anyone special in your life?”

Loki feels abruptly sick, and he squeezes his hands into fists, trying to stop them as they begin to tremble.

He shakes his head no, almost violently, unable to look at Steve.

“Oh.” Steve says, clearly having noticed Loki's odd reaction. “You're... hey, are... are you alright? You've got bruises...” The older boy's voice trails off, and Loki's heart stammers in his chest, his eyes going wide behind his dark sunglasses.

Shit, he'd totally forgotten.

His face still looked like someone had taken a hammer to it, even after a week, both his eyes still deeply bruised, only now shifting through every conceivable color, his lip still noticeably split, and small cuts and contusions still littering his skin.

For a moment, he doesn't even know what to say, his mind failing to come up with an immediate lie.

“Jesus, Loki, I can't believe I didn't even notice. Are... God, are you okay? Did someone...?”

“I... I ran into a plate glass door.” Loki finally stammers out, praying to God the lie sounds convincing. “I'm alright.”

Steve blinks, his face deeply uncertain a moment, and Loki doesn't think he's fallen for it at all.

Oh Jesus...

“... I'm sorry.” Steve says, and he sounds so horribly sincere, and sad, and Loki can't stand it. 

“Can I...” Steve hesitates a moment. “Can I buy you another ice cream? Since... since I made you drop your first one, I mean...”

Loki opens his mouth, the very first response in his mind to say no.

Only then he pulls back, and he next thinks “why”?

For long seconds then, he remains mute, unable to think of a reply, unable, even, to understand the request.

Steve, in the meanwhile, looks himself embarrassed, looking away for the first time.

“Sorry, I guess... I guess that was a little forward. I didn't mean... I only thought, you know, if... if you weren't doing anything else, or...”

At last Loki's brain kicks into gear again, and he shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“I...” he begins dumbly. “I'm waiting for... for my brother. He... I mean, he's coming back in a few minutes, so... s-so I...”

“Right.” Steve says. “Right, I get it. No problem. Maybe, uh, maybe another time? If... if you want to, I mean. No pressure or anything.”

Loki stares at Steve, confused.

He doesn't understand. Is... is Steve asking him out? But no, that couldn't be it. Steve was straight as an arrow. And anyway, why would he, when they had just... and he wasn't exactly proving himself to be any kind of interesting right now, and...

Before he can come up with an answer, Thor suddenly appears, coming through the building's entry.

Almost immediately, Thor is at Loki's side, putting a heavy, protective arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

“Hi.” He says to Steve flatly, the warning more than clear in his tone.

Steve blinks, taken aback.

“Uh... hi.” He says back, looking from Loki to Thor and back again.

Loki remembers then that the two of them have never met. Thor being older by eight years, having just graduated high school by the time Loki had gotten there.

“Thor, this is... this is Steve... Rogers. We went to school together.” Loki starts, feeling vaguely embarrassed for the way his brother is holding him with so much overt protectiveness.

Not that he doesn't also appreciate it.

Steve seems like a nice guy, but then... so did Thanos. And Loki only has to take one look at Steve to know, if he wanted to, he could easily overpower him. 

The fact he finds himself thinking about that at all makes him feel slightly dizzy and tired.

God, is it always going to be like this, he wonders. Is he always going to feel suspicious and frightened of everybody now?

Thor smiles grimly at Steve, nodding.

“Nice to meet you.” He says, only Loki can't help but notice he sounds more like he's delivering some sort of threat.

Steve himself looks more than slightly uncomfortable, his mouth working soundlessly for a moment, obviously trying to come up with something to say.

“Thor, it's alright.” Loki finally steps in, frustrated and annoyed. “We were just talking.”

“Mmhmm.” Thor nods, sounding anything but convinced. “Well, it was good talking to you Steve, but I've got to get Loki home now.”

“Thor, Jesus...” Loki huffs, feeling humiliated. “I'm fine. It's fine...” he looks to Steve, shaking his head. “I'm sorry. My brother is just a little protective sometimes.”

Steve smiles bashfully, putting his hands up.

“No, I understand. It's okay. I didn't mean to seem pushy or anything. If you've gotta go...”

“Do you want to give me your number?” Loki blurts out suddenly, an odd sense of panic settling in his gut. 

Steve blinks, taken off guard, and Loki can feel Thor's arm squeeze tighter around him.

“Loki, I don't think...” he starts, but Loki just ignores him.

“I'll give you a call. Maybe we can hang out?” He says to Steve instead.

The older boy smiles again, nodding.

“Yeah. Cool. That would be really cool.” He answers. “Uh... do you have a phone or...?”

Loki nods, digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

“Okay.” He tells Steve, typing in the number as Steve gives it.

“I'll call you.” Loki says, even as Thor begins pulling him away, clearly angry.

“O-okay!” Steve calls after him, just as Thor walks them round a corner and out of sight.

He pulls Loki almost violently along then towards where Thor's car is parked, his hand painfully tight around Loki's wrist.

“Thor, y-you're hurting me...” Loki stammers, an uncomfortable spike of fear knotting in his stomach. He knows Thor would never purposefully hurt him. But still...

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Thor snarls, not letting go, his grip seeming to grow only tighter. 

“Thor, please...” Loki chokes out then, the pain now starting to become too much as he tries tugging out of his brother's grip.

At last Thor seems to realize what he's doing, and he let's go, wide eyed.

Loki pulls his hand to his chest, cradling his wrist, rubbing at it, staring at Thor with startled eyes. 

“Loki, I'm sorry.” He says, his own expression horrified. “I didn't meant to do that. Are you alright?”

Loki nods slowly, embarrassed for the way he realizes he suddenly can't stop shaking.

Thor didn't mean it. He knows that. He knows Thor would never hurt him...

“Shit...” Thor mutters. “I'm really sorry.”

He takes a step closer to Loki, and Loki can't help the way he flinches back, freezing Thor in his tracks.

“I'm not going to hurt you Loki.” Thor tries, sounding frightened himself.

“I... I know.” Loki answers, voice trembling. “I know.”

“... Let me see your wrist.” Thor starts, reaching out.

“It's alright.” Loki says, still rubbing at it. 

“Let me just see it Loki. I just want to make sure.” Thor insists.

Loki hesitates a moment longer, before finally relenting, holding his arm out.

There's already obvious bruising beginning to form where Thor's thick fingers had gripped him so tightly, and Loki knows that later it's going to turn ugly.

“Fuck... Fuck...” Thor hisses, holding Loki's wrist gingerly now, examining it. His face lines with pain, shaking his head. “God, Loki, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...”

“It's alright Thor. It was an accident.” Loki tells him, wishing his voice would stop shaking, wishing he would.

“Does it hurt when I squeeze?” Thor goes on, gently gripping Loki's wrist. 

“A little.” Loki tells him honestly. “It's just the bruising. Nothing's broken.”

“Christ...” His brother again shakes his head, as if disbelieving. 

“Can I have my wrist back now?” Loki asks, just wanting to forget the whole thing.

Thor, thankfully, actually listens, letting him go finally.

Loki keeps his eyes on the ground now, feeling stupid and, once more, humiliated.

“I'm sorry Loki. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that, but...” Thor starts, and Loki closes his eyes, already knowing where this is headed. “what were you thinking? You can't go out with that guy.”

“... It's just to hang out.” Loki mutters, more to himself than to anyone.

“What?” Thor says. “Loki, are you insane? After what you've been through, and you want to start seeing another guy right away?”

“I said it was just to hang out Thor.” Loki snaps, angry. “And not every guy is going to be like Thanos. Alright?”

“Right.” Thor says back, the irritation clear in his own tone. “Because you've proven yourself to be such a good judge of character Loki.” 

Loki blinks, for a moment his mind blanking with shock, and then hurt, his throat swallowing convulsively as he tries in vain to think of a reply.

Thor seems to realize what he's just said a moment later, his own expression one of surprise and dismay.

“Loki, I didn't mean that...” he starts, reaching out for him.

Loki just shakes his head, stepping back.

“Loki, please...” Thor pleads.

“No, you're right.” He says, and he can't help the way his eyes sting, his voice choking thick with threatening tears. “You're right Thor. I guess I've always been an idiot, huh? Guess I'll... g-guess I'll always just be somebody's punching bag. I guess nobody could ever actually want me for... f-for any other kind of reason.”

“Loki, that isn't what I said...”

“But it's what you meant, right?” Loki shoots back, unable to help the tears from spilling over now, slipping down his face. “I've always been a fuck up. I'll always be a fuck up. I guess... I guess I even deserve what I got, don't I?”

“Jesus, Loki, no. God, no! How can you say that!?”

“Because it's true!” Loki cries. “It's true Thor! I'm a-a-a... a nothing, a-a nobody! Why don't you just admit it!? Why don't you just say it!?”

“Loki, where the hell is this coming from!?” Thor shouts back now, horrified. “You can't possibly mean any of this.”

“You're so fucking ignorant Thor!” Loki screams, overwhelmed. “God, you're...”

He cuts off, his voice choking in his throat, a gasped sob pushing past his lips instead, and he turns away, humiliated.

He brings his hands to his hair, his fingers curling into it, pulling hard, his teeth grinding together.

He can't take this anymore. He can't handle any of it. Can't handle Thor's pity and his mistrust, can't handle people looking at him like he's some sort of freak, some sort of pathetic child who can't... can't...

“Loki,” Thor's voice is soft behind him, and a moment later, he feels his brother's heavy hand on his shoulder. “it's alright.” 

“... It's not...” Loki chokes out, hating himself. God, he hates himself so much...

“It is.” Thor tells him, and an instant later, he's turning Loki around and pulling him into a hug, holding him tight.

Loki struggles for a moment to free himself, shame burning his face and making his throat close up.

But Thor isn't letting him go, and Loki has no more strength to resist.

He crumples, sobbing brokenly against his brother's chest, weak and pitiful.

And he can only feel a crushing hopelessness, even as Thor holds him close, telling him again it's alright. Because it isn't. It isn't alright, Loki thinks. It won't ever be alright again.


	14. Chapter 14

Steve's surprised when his phone buzzes and he looks down to see a text from Loki.

"Hi," it says. "want to meet?"

Honestly, Steve hadn't thought Loki would contact him at all. Not after that... bizarre exchange between him and his brother a couple days ago.

Steve hadn't known what was going on, and hadn't been particularly keen to involve himself in whatever it was either.

That, and then there was the fact that Loki had seemed incredibly nervous, and then there was his face which...

Steve knows Loki had said it was from walking into a glass door but... Steve knew what it looked like when someone had been hit in the face too.

He'd seen it on his own face plenty of times, when he'd been younger, before he'd hit a growth spurt and turned into what he was. Before that, he'd just been a scrawny, undersized kid with asthma, an easy target for the bigger, stronger kids at school.

That... and he remembers all too well the way his father had used to beat on his Mom, before she'd finally had enough, taking him and leaving.

Steve knows what it looks like, what that kind of bruising looks like, and he's almost completely sure that's what he'd seen on Loki's face.

Sure that someone had hit him, and hit him hard.

He thought then of Loki's brother.

The guy was huge. Bigger than Steve by a good deal, and that was saying something.

Someone like Loki, though tall, wasn't at all big. He wouldn't have had a chance against someone like that. And though it makes Steve sick just to think about it, he can't help wondering, from the way Loki's brother had been handling him, had seemed so possessive of him, if it hadn't been him that done that to Loki's face.

He knows it's none of his business.

Steve barely knows Loki.

He isn't even sure if they ever really talked when they were in school together.

Loki was younger than him by about five years, had just been a little, per-pubesent kid when they'd first encountered each other. They hadn't run at all in the same circles.

Steve didn't think, honestly, that Loki had run in any circles.

He remembers him being alone all the time. Remembers him not seeming to have any actual friends. Remember, also, the other kids picking on him a lot.

Steve still regrets not having stepped in when he could have. When he should have.

He hadn't known much about Loki, except that, supposedly, he came from a rich family, and that he was smart as hell. That much had been obvious, just from the fact that he was in high school at such a young age, and most of his classes, Steve had known, were AP classes.

Other than that, Loki had always been painfully shy and quiet, a cute kid, not bratty or snotty, like Tony Stark, who had also, oddly, been at their school around the same time, even younger than Loki. He was like nine or something, also coming from a rich family.

The two of them, for whatever reason, had never become friends. Steve guesses it was because, despite their shared quality of advancement, they were just completely different. Tony had, even as a kid, been ridiculously confident and outgoing. The very definition of precocious.

Him and Steve were still friends, though it was always a bit of an edgy friendship. Tony had turned into a serious womanizer since then, and Steve just didn't relate to that at all. He was a one relationship kind of guy.

He'd tried dating a bit since he and Peggy had finally called it quits about a year ago, but he hadn't hit it off with anyone, really.

And then he'd seen Loki the other day.

Man, he hadn't even recognized him at first, with those sunglasses on, and with how much taller he'd gotten.

Really, it had been the hair and skin which had caught his eye to begin with. Loki, he remembered, had always had the blackest hair and the whitest skin he'd ever seen. He'd never seen another person with that kind of coloring, and that was how he'd known who it was.

Even with the glasses on and his face busted up, Steve hadn't been able to help thinking how stunning Loki was.

He was tall and thin, and elegant in a way most guys just couldn't ever hope to pull off. Graceful, Steve thinks, and he finds himself smiling to himself.

He didn't know if Loki was... into guys or not.

He'd always seemed gay to Steve, but that was just an assumption, and he didn't want to overstep his bounds.

Still, he seemed interested in at least hanging out.

Steve can't help the little flutter of excitement he feels as he texts Loki back.

"Sure! Time and place?"

It's several seconds before his phone chimes again.

"Give me 30 min. to take bus to same place we met before?"

Steve grins.

"Yeah. Great! See you then!"

It shouldn't take Steve more than 15 minutes to walk to the spot from where he is, he thinks. In the meantime, that'll give him a chance to make himself a little more presentable.

/

Loki can't believe he's doing this.

He'd been nervous as hell, sneaking out of the house. He knows Mom and Dad and Thor wouldn't have allowed him to otherwise. He'd left a note, explaining where it was he'd gone. He didn't want to terrify them of course. Still, he knew, later, he was going to get chewed out hard for this.

He isn't even sure why he'd doing it.

He'd always had a crush on Steve, sure, but he feels about as uncertain and scared as he knows his family is for him. And maybe that's the reason, Loki thinks to himself as he sits on the bus, fidgeting nervously with the cuffs of his shirt. Because he was scared.

He guesses... he guesses he wants to prove to himself that he can do this. That he isn't going to allow himself to become a victim for the rest of his life. That he isn't going to allow what happened to him to ruin everything, to stop him from... from being who he is.

Still, he can feel his heart beating too hard against his ribcage, his palms sweaty and his breathes coming too fast.

He isn't stupid, and he isn't going to put himself into a vulnerable position.

He'd brought his phone, and also was wearing the whistle around his neck that Mom had given him.

It made him feel so pathetic though.

Whistles, he'd always been told, were for girls. For woman who were in danger of being... of being raped.

… Like he'd been raped.

Mom had told him to keep it with him, had told him if he thought or felt for even a moment that he was in danger, that he needed to blow it as hard as he could, and to scream for help, it didn't matter how humiliating he thought it was, or embarrassing.

He'd promised her he would, and he... he planned to, if anything happened.

He didn't think it would. He just didn't get that sort of vibe off of Steve.

He hadn't with Thanos either, that was true. But Thanos, Loki knew now, was a master at manipulating people, and even still, Loki remembers being attracted to the sense of danger and power about him.

Steve had always been so polite and such a boy next door type.

If he tried anything, Loki would use the whistle.

He also wasn't going to go anywhere with Steve that wasn't out in public.

He would be okay.

He tells himself that over and over, until he can almost believe it.

/

Steve gets there with a few minutes to spare, finding himself standing restlessly, checking his phone almost obsessively to make sure Loki hadn't texted him again.

He feels nervous, which he supposes is normal, considering he hadn't really done any serious dating in so long. This isn't a date though, he has to keep reminding himself. Loki had only agreed to hang out, that was it.

Still, he isn't really prepared when he again looks up from his phone and finally spots Loki across the street, just getting off the bus and waiting at the light to cross.

Even from this distance, Steve finds his breathe catching in his throat.

God, Loki is stunning.

He's dressed simply, only a white button down dress shirt and black slacks, with a full length, black overcoat reaching past his knees, but he looks incredible, thin, lithe like a gazelle. Steve can't help but think of a beautiful dancer as Loki begins moving across the street and towards him.

By comparison, Steve thinks, he must look plain and dull in his khacki pants and t-shirt and bulky leather jacket.

Maybe he should have tried harder to dress up...

Loki is still wearing those dark sunglasses from the last time Steve saw him, and underneath, Steve can make out the still ugly bruising and cuts as the younger man comes nearer. He notices too, like last time, the bruising around Loki's knuckles and the healing cuts on his fingers.

He stamps down on his urge to ask Loki again what happened. Tells himself it's none of his business.

If Loki wants to tell him the truth, he will, in his own time, Steve figures.

He just feels bad.

"Hi." Loki greets, smiling tightly. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. You haven't been waiting long, have you?"

"No, no, not at all." Steve smiles back. "Just a few minutes. Actually, I think you're right on time." He glances at his watch and sees that it's exactly half an hour since Loki texted him.

Loki blinks, seeming oddly confused for a moment, before his shoulders relax some and he gives a vague nod.

"Oh," he says softly. "Good."

An awkward moment of silence stretches between them then, Loki fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt, staring at the ground.

Steve struggles a moment trying to find something to say.

Loki seems like an odd mixture of forward and shy to him, he thinks. It's weird.

"So," he finally starts, shoving his hands into his coat's pockets. "did you think of anything you might want to do?"

"... Uh, w-well..." Loki says after a moment. "I didn't really, um... any... anything you want to do is... is fine."

"Oh... okay." Steve says, trying not to sound put off. "How about..."

"Just!" Loki interrupts him abruptly, voice going a little sharp. "J-just... uh, some... someplace public, if... if you don't mind. Uh, with people."

Steve pauses a moment, taken aback, not quite understanding.

"Uh, sure." He begins slowly. "I was gonna recommend a movie, if you wanted. But we can do anything."

"A movie is good." Loki agrees quickly, smiling weakly. "Sure. Do you know what's playing or...?"

He trails off, playing again with his cuffs.

"Well we could, uh, go down to the theater and check out what's playing and decide there." Steve suggests hopefully. "Maybe get a coffee afterward, if... if you're into that?"

Loki nods, again smiling.

"Yeah, sure. That... that sounds nice." He agrees.

Steve can't help feeling relieved, the tension lifting away some as they finally come to a decision.

"Great." He says. "Great!"

/

They end up seeing some silly action flick, one that seems to run too long and which, finally, Loki asks quietly if it's okay to leave early. Steve wouldn't have much ground to protest either way, given that Loki had insisted on paying, something Steve had felt weird about to begin with.

But it worked out in the end anyway, as Steve wasn't much enjoying it either.

Loki, though, seems positively relieved to be out of the theater, breathing out heavily as they step out of the building and into fresh air.

"Sorry," he mutters quietly, seeming embarrassed. "it was just too loud and long. I hope I didn't ruin it for you."

"Not at all." Steve smiles, trying to sound reassuring. "It's not like we were watching Shakespeare. I wouldn't say we missed much."

Loki smiles back, so plainly grateful that for a moment, Steve's heart hurts just looking at him.

He doesn't know what he said that would make Loki feel that way, but something about it is uncomfortable to him.

"So you still up for that coffee?" He asks, trying to move away to another subject.

"Yeah, sure. Um..." Loki nods across the street. "There's a shop over there, if you like. I've been a few times and it's pretty good."

"Cool." Steve agrees.

It's a weekday, during the afternoon, so luckily the place isn't too busy and they don't have to wait long for their drinks.

Loki ends up getting a hot chocolate, and Steve just a regular coffee with cream.

He feels awkward and unsure. Loki hasn't said much at all since they've met up. Not in an impolite way, really, but more like he's almost afraid. He'd asked a little about Peggy again, wanting to know why it didn't work out, since they'd been so close in school, and Steve had been happy to answer, even after Loki had caught himself and started apologizing about being too nosy.

The truth hadn't been anything scandalous anyway. Just that he and Peggy had been struggling with finding time to spend together more and more lately, until finally, she'd landed a job working for an independent national security firm and had had to relocate. Steve hadn't wanted to leave the city he'd grown up in, and that was that. They remained friends, talking on the phone and seeing one another whenever they could. There'd been no hard feelings.

Loki had asked him a few more questions quietly, about what he did, did he end up going to university, etc...

Steve had been happy to answer all of them.

He had gone to college, just a local school, and had gotten a four year degree in economics, which he was currently doing zilch with, instead working a few jobs, one as a night custodian at an office building, and then selling shoes at a sports shop on alternating days. Not very glamorous, especially, he was sure, to Loki, who Steve had imagined must have gone to some elite university and was probably pulling in millions along with the rest of his family.

When he'd asked about it though, Loki had told him quietly that he hadn't gone to college. That he hadn't done much of anything with his life since graduating high school at 13. More than embarrassed by it, Loki had sounded almost resigned and sad.

"Well, what, you're only 19 now. Is that right? So if you went to college now, you'd basically be the same age as everyone else there, and with how smart you are, you'd graduate well before them anyway." Steve had encouraged him.

Loki had only smiled ruefully, before murmuring "I'm not so smart.".

He'd been even quieter when Steve had asked if he was in any sort of relationship, only muttering out that he'd seen a few people here and there, giving no details except to say that he wasn't seeing anyone now.

He'd been so reluctant, that Steve found himself still concerned that he'd said or done something wrong, and didn't know at all how to fix it.

Loki was oddly melancholy, in a way Steve couldn't figure out.

Again, he couldn't keep his mind from swirling back around to the bruises on Loki's face.

When they'd been waiting in line for their coffee, Loki had briefly removed his sunglasses, and Steve had gotten his first real, clear glimpse of the damage. He'd had to swallow a sharp gasp at the horrible blackened eyes, and at the nasty, even if they were healing, cuts along his brow ridge.

Loki had seemed to remember what he looked like after only a moment of having his glasses off and had quickly put them back on, looking down at the floor and crossing his arms over his chest, like he'd been trying to hide.

Steve had just barely managed to keep his mouth shut, though as the afternoon wore on, it was getting more and more difficult.

He liked Loki.

In the few moments they'd spent together today when he'd actually gotten the younger man to open up, he'd been incredibly witty and bright and funny. Steve had found himself laughing, genuinely laughing, more than he had in a long time. Loki's comments about people alone were enough to make him bust a gut. Tinged with an edge of almost meanness, but not quite. Steve knew he shouldn't laugh, but he couldn't always help it.

He felt good around Loki, despite his generally somber demeanor. The kid was nice, really sweet, actually, and when he asked Steve about himself, he seemed genuinely interested, looking right at him and actually listening.

It sounded silly, and cliché, but that was actually so rare in people, Steve had found as he'd grown older. Most people were only really interested in talking about themselves and their lives and their problems.

Loki, oddly, seemed the exact opposite. He didn't really want to talk about himself at all.

They're walking now down the sidewalk, side by side, enjoying the unusually warm weather.

"You... you used to draw a lot, d... didn't you?" Loki asks softly, holding his hot chocolate in both hands, bringing it to his lips and taking a sip.

For a moment, Steve loses his words, shocked.

He hadn't...

How did Loki know that? He used to doodle in school, that was true, and took art class along with everybody else, but... Well, he hadn't ever told anybody that had always been his realist passion. He'd always spent his free hour during the day sitting and drawing, or reading, depending on his mood but...

He's still standing there, trying to think of a reply, when he hears Loki begin to apologize.

"I'm sorry, I... I shouldn't have brought it up. I guess I must seem like a stalker to you now. I used to, hmm..." he trails off, his face going slightly red. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school. I didn't think you probably even knew I existed, but I used to always stare at you when I didn't think you were looking. God, this is so embarrassing."

Steve can only stare back at Loki, his mouth falling agape, lost for words for the second time in as many minutes.

Loki takes another sip of his hot chocolate, pointedly keeping his gaze fixed ahead.

"You must've known I'm a faggot." He says abruptly, his voice going oddly flat. "I hope that doesn't bother you."

"... W-what?" Steve stammers after a moment, his brain taking a second to catch up to Loki's words. He realizes like a punch to the gut just how self-derogatory they were, and he feels suddenly extremely uncomfortable.

"I said I hope it doesn't bother you, that I'm a fag." Loki goes on in the same, mechanical tone. "I know it would bother a lot of people."

He takes another sip of his drink, still looking ahead.

Steve blinks.

"Um... I'm not..." he struggles to come up with what to say. Loki almost sounds angry. "I... I mean, I'm bisexual myself, s-so..." he finally manages.

That seems to catch Loki off guard, the younger man finally turning and looking at him.

"You..." Loki starts. "You're... bisexual?"

"Y-yeah." Steve blushes himself now slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, I didn't tell anyone when we were in high school. It's kinda tough, being on all those sports teams. If guys knew you were attracted to them, they'd get defensive in the locker room, and that was something I didn't really need. Ya know?"

Loki only continues to stare at him for several seconds, and Steve hopes he hasn't said the wrong thing again.

Finally Loki looks away.

"Oh," he breathes quietly, and that's it.

Steve frowns.

"You shouldn't talk about yourself that way you know." He says after a moment, unable to help himself.

He sees Loki swallow, before he suddenly starts walking again.

"What way?" He asks distantly.

The younger man's strides are long and fast and Steve has to jog a second to catch up.

"Y-you know, calling yourself a... a..."

"A faggot." Loki supplies, again in the same, dead voice.

"... Yeah." Steve answers. "You shouldn't call yourself that."

Loki shrugs, continuing to walk.

"Why not? It's what I am, isn't it?"

"No, it isn't." Steve says firmly, actually feeling annoyed. "It's a rotten term and you shouldn't use it to talk about yourself, or about anyone else."

Loki finally stops, turning and looking at him again, cocking his head to the side like he's studying some fascinating creature. It's an effort Steve finds not to fidget under that gaze.

"... Funny." Loki says after a moment, and there's a real edge of anger in his voice now. "Could've fooled me, I guess. So many people have called me that so many times, I often get it mixed up with my actual name."

"But you shouldn't..." Steve says, his face heating, not from embarrassment now, but from frustration. "you shouldn't let what other people say or think get to you like that. You shouldn't... shouldn't..."

"What?" Loki cuts him off sharply. "Shouldn't let them degrade me?" He laughs suddenly, cynical and ugly. "I should stand up for myself? Is that it?"

"Yes!" Steve answers back.

Loki laughs again, shaking his head.

But as quickly as his humor seems to come, it goes, his expression falling.

"Maybe this is the only way I have of doing that Steve. You ever consider such a thing?" He asks, before he turns away and begins once more to walk down the sidewalk.

"How can..." Steve starts, confused and a little hurt. "Hey, wait a second. How can you say that?" He runs to catch up again.

"You take their power away when you adopt the very word they use to insult you." Loki tells him flatly, not looking at him. "That's how. They call you a faggot, or a nigger, or a cunt, trying to hurt you... so you call yourself that, and suddenly those words don't have any impact anymore. They don't... they don't mean anything... anymore..."

His voice trails off, and Steve can't help but notice the way it had, for just a moment, begun to shake.

"Loki, listen..."

"Just forget it Steve." Loki cuts him off again. "It's fine. Let's just..." he shrugs, and keeps walking.

/

Things are even more awkward between them after that, the both of them falling more or less silent as they continue walking directionless.

Steve isn't stupid. He knows he's stepped in something ugly without having even realized it. Something he'd said had seriously upset Loki. He just doesn't understand what.

All he'd been trying to do was make Loki understand that it was wrong to talk about himself, or anyone else who was a minority, that way. It just hurt Steve to see people using derogatory terms to describe themselves. And he got what Loki was saying about turning it around on people who meant it as a way to hurt, but... Steve had never ascribed to that sort of mindset. To him, it just spread more hate and ugliness to use terms like that.

But, the more time he spent around Loki, the more Steve was beginning to realize he really didn't know anything about the younger man at all.

Something was going on with him. Just a feeling Steve got, but despite everyone and their mother knowing Loki had come from a well to do family, with a lot of money and power, he had the distinct, almost overpowering sense that Loki's life had been anything but easy or plush. Just the way Loki held himself, talked about himself, acted...

He was obviously an intense guy, and Steve only had to look in his eyes to know he was scary smart. But there was something so fragile about him too, like any minute he could break apart. He looked... haunted. And the way he'd said back there, so casually, about how other people had called him... had called him that word so many times, that he'd almost forgotten his actual name... Like that was normal for him.

If anyone talked to Steve like that, he would've laid em' out in a second.

He guesses that isn't a fair expectation to put on Loki though.

Loki isn't built like that. He doesn't look like he could really defend himself, if Steve is being honest...

He's looking down at the ground, his mind racing with all these thoughts, and absently he notices his shoelace is undone.

"Uh, hey, hold on a sec Loki. I just... just need to tie my shoelace." He starts. "Here, hold this for me a second?" He asks, handing his coffee to the younger man.

He does so even as he begins bending to take care of his laces, thinking Loki has hold of the paper cup already when he lets go.

Apparently, Loki doesn't, as a moment later, the cup smacks against the pavement, busting open, Steve's coffee splattering everywhere.

Steve blinks, taken aback a moment, not expecting it.

"Whoops," he says once it registers to him what's happened. He smiles, quickly tying his laces, grabbing the now empty cup and broken top and standing back up.

"Don't worry about that." He starts, thinking to look for a waste bin.

Only he's stopped when he looks at Loki.

The younger man is frozen, his eyes wide and absolutely, shockingly terrified.

He's staring at Steve like he's sure he's going to hit him, shaking pronouncedly, like he's freezing cold, his breathes coming hard and fast and shallow.

Steve is alarmed.

"Loki... Loki, what is it? What's wrong?" He asks, feeling a swell of panic beginning to bloom in the pit of his stomach.

He reaches out, not sure what to do, and Loki flinches back from him so violently he nearly topples over. Steve just barely catches him by the arm, and Loki gasps out like he's suffocating.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He blubbers hysterically, tears suddenly pouring down his face. He's trembling viciously, trying weakly to pull away from Steve. "I'm sorry!"

"Loki, Loki Jesus, it's alright. It's alright. Calm down!" Steve tries, his panic turning to full blown fear.

He doesn't know what the hell is happening, what he did, but it's clear to him that Loki is having some sort of massive panic attack.

"Please..." Loki sobs brokenly. "please, I'm s-s-sorry, I didn't... I'm sorry..."

"Loki, it's alright. Please, I... I'm not going to hurt you. It's alright."

But Loki just keeps shaking and crying and saying he's sorry, over and over, and Christ, Steve doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what's happened.

Loki isn't trying to pull away from him anymore though, instead having gone almost frighteningly limp in Steve's hold.

Steve takes it as an opportunity to move Loki away from the sidewalk, putting his arm around Loki's shoulders and guiding him gently towards a bench a little ways down.

It doesn't escape his notice how bony Loki feels under his arm, but he tries to ignore it as he helps Loki to sit down.

It isn't just a panic attack, Steve realizes, as he watches Loki continuing to breathe to quickly and sharply.

He recognizes what asthma looks like from when he had been a kid, and Loki's having an attack right now.

It's confirmed only a moment later when Loki's stammers out...

"C-can't... can't bb-breathe... can't..."

"Do you have an inhaler?" Steve asks quickly, crouching down in front of Loki, putting his hands on the younger man's shoulders.

Loki gives a jerky, desperate nod, tears still streaming from his eyes.

"In your jacket?" Steve asks.

Another nod.

"P-pocket... l-left pocket..." Loki gasps.

He tries reaching for it, his hands shaking badly.

"Here, let me." Steve offers, reaching into Loki's left jacket pocket and finding the inhaler.

He doesn't wait for instructions, already knowing what to do, giving it a good shake, removing the cap and holding it up to Loki's mouth.

"Big breath for me Loki." He says, and Loki follows, inhaling as deeply as he can as Steve presses the inhaler past his lips, compressing the cartridge.

He can only slump in relief when Loki lets the breath go several seconds later, his chest rising and falling in a much more even pattern.

He's still shaking terribly, still crying, but at least he can breathe again.

"Are you alright?" He asks, keeping his hand on Loki's shoulder.

Loki just sits there for a long moment, not answering, before he shakes his head no.

"Okay... Okay, listen, I'm gonna call someone." Steve tells him. "Is there someone I should call for you?"

Loki nods weakly.

"Okay. Can you tell me who?"

"... M-my... my bb-brother..." Loki stutters out, voice rough, like he's been crying for hours. "Th-Thor..."

"Okay." Steve says. "Alright. Can you give me his number?"

Loki does, tripping over the digits a few times before Steve gets it in.

The phone picks up on the second ring.

"Yes?" He hears a deep voice on the other end, frantic sounding.

"Uh... Thor?" He starts, uncertain.

"Yes, speaking. Who is this?" Loki's brother, evidently, answers.

"Uh, this is... this is Steve Rogers. I'm with..."

"Is Loki with you?" Thor cuts him short.

"Yeah, he is."

"Where? Where are you?"

"Um, on the corner of..." Steve pauses, glancing at the street signs. "15th and Row. Listen, Loki's had some sort of panic attack and I think you might need to come pick him up."

"I'm on my way." Thor tells him. "Don't move."

The line goes dead before Steve even has a chance to reply.

He sits down next to Loki then to wait.

"Your brother's on his way." He tells the younger man.

Loki doesn't answer, only bending his face away, still shaking like he's scared to death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much to all my readers and/or reviewers! Your support means so much to me!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so, a warning here. This chapter contains the first really graphic scene of sexual molestation in this story so far. It happens after the second break of the chapter. So if that isn't something you can handle, you've been warned. As always, thank you so much to all my readers and/or reviewers! I appreciate you all so much, and you make it possible for me to continue writing!

It's a bizarre mixture of relief and fear that Loki feels when he sees Thor's car pull up in front of them, watching as his brother cuts the ignition and gets out, moving around the vehicle.

He's been sitting here for the last fifteen minutes with Steve, feeling humiliated and sick with fear, unable to bring himself to say anything, to even talk to the other man.

Steve at one point had tried rubbing Loki's back, and Loki had flinched away violently from it, Steve pulling back immediately and apologizing profusely.

It's absurd, Loki knows, and he hates himself for it.

Steve hadn't done anything. He'd... he'd been such a perfect gentleman throughout the whole afternoon. Had been gracious and polite and kind, even when Loki hadn't been able to wheel in his own, sardonic, even unkind attitude. Even when Loki has pushed and pushed, trying to get a reaction out of him, trying to see if Steve would reject him once he found out he was gay, if he hadn't known it already.

Loki had been sure.

That was something he did.

At least, that's what Dr. Banner kept telling him. That he pushed and prodded, almost subconsciously trying to make people reject him. Dr. Banner told him it was a defense mechanism, that he feared people would reject him right off, so he tried to take the decision away from them by forcing them to.

But Steve had caught him off guard, had surprised him.

Loki liked to think he was usually pretty good at spotting other queers, but he hadn't seen it in Steve at all.

It had taken all his self-control not to choke on his own spit when Steve had told him he was bi.

And then Loki hadn't been able to stop the flutter of excitement and fucking hope from blooming in the pit of his stomach, like some pathetic little boy with a schoolyard crush.

Maybe he really likes me, he'd thought to himself. Maybe he wants to see me again.

That had lasted all of five seconds, and then Steve had gotten on him about saying faggot, and Loki had gotten mad, because who the fuck was Steve Rogers to tell him about using derogatory terms, and who was he to tell him how to talk about himself.

And then Loki had gotten scared, because wasn't it his own fucking stupidity, his own damned pride which had gotten him into so much trouble in the first place? He'd started talking back to Steve... Just like he'd talked back to Thanos.

And then Thanos had shown him who was really in charge, had shown Loki his place, had... had...

And Steve could've hurt Loki just as easily as Thanos. He could've beaten him up so easy, could've overpowered him and... and...

He'd told Loki to hold his coffee for him, and Loki had dropped it. Hadn't realized Steve was handing it too him at all until Steve had let go of the cup, and he'd dropped it, and oh God, God, Loki had been so sure Steve was going to kill him then, he'd been so sure, because Thanos... and whenever he'd messed up around Thanos like that... and...

But Steve hadn't hit him, he hadn't hurt him or... or made him...

He'd helped. He'd... he'd helped Loki with his inhaler when his panic had triggered another asthma attack, he'd sat him down and offered comfort and... and called Thor.

Loki wishes, God, he wishes he could explain to Steve how grateful he is, and how sorry, but he's so embarrassed, and still so scared. He can't stop his heart from racing, can feel the sweat drenching through his undershirt, his hands clasped tightly together to keep them from shaking.

Whatever shot he had with Steve is gone, he's sure. He hadn't wanted Steve to see this, to see what a messed up freak he really was. But he had, and now he's not going to want to have anything to do with Loki.

The worst part is, Loki can't even blame him.

God, he hates himself.

He can't even look at Steve, can't look at Thor either as his brother steps up onto the sidewalk and starts towards them.

Steve stands quickly to greet him, and Loki hunches in on himself, wishing suddenly he could just disappear.

"Loki," Thor starts, ignoring Steve and crouching down in front of him. "Loki, are you alright? Loki look at me."

Thor's big hands grip Loki's elbows.

"Loki,"

"He had a panic attack." Steve says, seeming unbothered by Thor's dismissal. "I don't know what happened. We were having an okay time, and then he just got really upset and..."

Thor shifts, letting Loki go and standing suddenly.

He towers over Steve, a good five or six inches taller, but Steve doesn't step back.

"What were you doing with my brother?" Thor asks, his voice frightening. Loki can feel himself pale, his throat going suddenly dry.

Steve only seems confused.

"Your... Loki, he texted me on my phone. Asked if I wanted to hang out. I told him sure. I didn't... He didn't say there was any kind of problem. I just thought..."

"Loki isn't seeing anyone right now." Thor tells him roughly. "You aren't going to see him anymore."

Steve frowns deeply, his body stiffening.

"... Wait a second..." he starts, but Thor talks right over him.

"He's not in any fucking condition." He snaps loudly, voice booming, and Loki flinches, turning away. "Don't you see that?"

"Hold on just a second." Steve protests, seeming unintimidated. "Loki got in contact with me. I didn't..."

"And you should have been able to see that he isn't okay to be seeing anybody right now." Thor again cuts him off. "It's fine. You obviously just weren't paying attention, and Loki's good at that sort of thing. Tricking people. He knew he wasn't supposed to leave the house. But you aren't going to see him again."

Steve half laughs, a disgusted scoff.

"I think that's up to Loki. He is legally an adult, last I checked."

Thor steps closer to him, and Loki feels dizzy with fear.

"You don't seem to get what I'm telling you..." He begins to tell Steve, and Loki reaches out, grabbing hold of Thor's wrist.

"Thor, please..." he tries.

"You stay out of this Loki." Thor snaps at him, easily pulling his arm free. "You aren't in any position to say anything."

"Did you do that to his face?" Steve suddenly says, and Loki feels himself go numb.

Oh, Jesus...

"Excuse me?" Thor turns back to the other man, voice deadly with warning.

"His face." Steve nods towards Loki, and his own voice is heavy with rage. "Somebody hit him. Somebody big, it looks like. Was it you?"

For a moment, Thor seems stunned into speechlessness, just staring at Steve like he can't believe what he's saying.

"Because from where I'm standing, listening to the way you talk to him and handle him, it sure looks like you'd be capable." Steve goes on, and Loki can't believe this. He can't...

"Fucker," Thor finally breathes. "you have the fucking nerve to talk to me that way? You think I would ever lay a hand on him? He's my brother. My baby brother. I would never..."

"How am I supposed to know that?" Steve cuts him off. "I just saw your brother have a full blown panic attack. He was looking at me like I was gonna beat the heck out of him, and I don't know why. And then you come along and start telling me I can't ever see him, talking about him like he's not even here. How am I supposed to know you didn't beat him up yourself?"

Thor's patience finally runs out, and he reaches forward, grabbing Steve by the lapels of his jacket and jerking him towards him.

Loki feel's his chest tighten with fear and he stands up, his legs weak and shaky underneath him.

"Thor, don't... please don't..." He reaches out again, grabbing hold of Thor's arm. "Please, he... this isn't his fault. It's mine."

"Like hell Loki." Thor spits, not taking his eyes off Steve, not letting him go. "He thinks he can accuse me of..."

"You aren't convincing me otherwise asshole." Steve snaps back, and Loki can't help the fresh tears which spring to his eyes, running hot down his face.

"No, he... he didn't do this to me Steve. It wasn't him." He tells the older boy, his voice shaking and thin. "Please, just... please don't do this. Thor, let him go. I... I wanna go home, please... please..."

The seconds stretch on for what feels like forever, Steve and Thor still glaring hatefully at each other, before Thor finally lets him go with a shove and a growl.

"Stay away from my brother." He tells him, before he's grabbing hold of Loki's wrist and dragging him towards the car.

"Loki," Steve calls after him, sounding alarmed.

"I'm alright. I... I'm alright Steve." Loki calls back, and that's all he has time for before Thor is opening the passenger side door and pushing him into the seat.

Loki knows better than to argue with Thor when he's like this, only able to sit quietly and bear the humiliation as Thor straps him in like some little kid before closing the door and moving around to the other side.

He knows Steve is looking at him, and he can't bring himself to look back, too embarrassed, too ashamed.

He should have known this would happen. But he was so stupid, so blind, he couldn't... Couldn't see anything.

Thor slams his own door shut, and Loki jumps, wrapping his arms round himself.

He's in so much trouble, he thinks. Oh God, he's in so much trouble.

/

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Thor finally explodes once they've pulled away from the curb and down the street.

Loki doesn't answer. He can't answer. His throat is suddenly closed up, his eyes thick with fresh tears, running down his face.

"Huh?" Thor pushes. "What the fuck were you thinking Loki? Running off like that without telling anybody?!"

"... I left a note..." Loki tries, his voice barely above a whisper, broken with suppressed sobs.

"Do you even know what you did to Mom?" Thor goes on, not hearing him. "She was having a fucking melt down when we realized you weren't in your room! She thought that bastard had kidnapped you again! We didn't find that half-assed note you left until almost half an hour later. And you didn't tell us shit all except that you went out with that fucking guy. No address, nothing. And then you turn your phone off, so we couldn't even call you..."

"I'm sorry." Loki sobs, not even trying to control himself now.

"Yeah, well, sorry doesn't fucking cut it Loki. You left all of us frantic, all because you can't just for once do what you're fucking told. Because you have to be the rebel..."

"I'm sorry!" Loki cries again, his face burning. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"I don't fucking care Loki!" Thor shouts, his voice loud enough to hurt Loki's ears. "You endanger yourself, you nearly give Mom and Dad a heart attack. Do you even care about how your actions affect other people?!"

"... Yes." Loki answers weakly, wiping clumsily at his face.

"Well you sure as shit don't act like it Loki." Thor tells him coldly. "I get a call from some fucker I don't know, telling me you're with him, that you're having a fucking panic attack. What the hell am I supposed to think? How am I supposed to feel Loki?"

"... I don't know." Loki answers, and he can't stop crying. "I'm sorry."

"You said that already." Thor tells him. "And I told you sorry doesn't cut it. What the fuck happened anyway? What did that guy do to you?"

"... Nothing." Loki answers feebly, again wiping at his face.

"Bullshit." Thor says. "You had a freak out. Why? What did he do. I swear to God, if he laid a hand on you, I'll..."

"He didn't... he..." Loki sobs, frightened. "I d-d-dropped his coffee, I... I got scared. I thought... I thought he'd be mad and I..."

Thor finally looks at him, eyes narrowed.

"What are you talking about Loki? You got scared. Did he hit you?"

Loki shakes his head no, hard.

"No..." he moans softly, pitifully.

"Then what?" Thor pushes. "Why did you get scared? What happened?"

"I dropped his coffee. I dropped his coffee..." Loki repeats brokenly, and the memories are so strong inside his head now, he suddenly feels like he's drowning...

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Hurry up bitch." Thanos snaps, and Loki feels his stomach drop out from under him, his throat dry.

God, he can't...

"I said I'm fucking hungry bitch. Hurry up! What the hell is taking you so long?"

"I-I'm... I'm almost dd-done. I'm ss-sorry..." Loki stammers, his hands shaking viciously as he stirs the eggs. The smell of the food is agonizing. He hasn't had anything to eat in three or four days, his stomach cramping so terribly that nausea is constant and keen.

"Yeah, you better hurry that sweet ass up." Thanos mutters behind him, and Loki thinks he's going to be sick.

Thanos had let him out of the room again, to cook him breakfast.

Loki had used to cook it for him every day, along with lunch and dinner, before...

He'd had always been a good cook. He'd used to make breakfast and dinner for Thor and Mom too, and Dad, when he'd been home.

Just thinking about it has Loki's eyes stinging with hot tears suddenly, and he wipes quickly at them, terrified that Thanos will see. Oh God, he wants his family so much. He wants Mom and Dad and Thor, he wants...

"Thirty seconds Loki. Food on the plate in thirty seconds, or else."

Loki's hands are shaking so much, he's barely able to lift the pan off the stove, his legs threatening to give out on him any second as he turns and walks stiffly towards the dining table, where Thanos is sitting, waiting for him.

"I-I'm sss... sorry." He stutters, beginning to scoop the scrambled eggs out of the pan, onto Thanos' plate.

"I-I-I'm ssssorrrrrry." Thanos makes fun of him, putting on a girlish voice, laughing loudly. "God, you're fucking pathetic." He snorts. "Now where's my fucking toast and coffee? Make it snappy faggot. And get me some ketchup."

Loki can only nod, turning back towards the counter, where Thanos' toast has just popped up.

Loki tries to be as fast as he can, laying the toasted bread out on the cutting board and trying to spread the soft butter onto it evenly. It's hard with the way his hands won't stop shaking. He knows if he fucks up at all, Thanos is going to beat the shit out of him again, and he doesn't think he can handle it, not after last night. Not after...

He hears Thanos hum behind him, digging into the eggs.

"Hmm, ya know Loki, you may be good for one thing, and that's cooking some damn fine breakfast." He says.

Loki doesn't say anything, feeling his shoulders go ridged. He doesn't know if he's supposed to say something. If Thanos expects him to.

"Who knows, maybe you coulda' been a famous chef." He goes on. "If you weren't such a shit shoveler, that is."

Loki bites down on his lip, a wave of dizziness hitting him hard, and Thanos' voice recedes into the background a moment, distant and fuzzy, like he's under water.

And then it comes rushing back, painfully loud, and he hears Thanos screaming at him to hurry up with the toast and coffee.

Loki finishes with the toast as quickly as he can, grabbing the pot of coffee as he turns, walking back towards the table.

He could throw the coffee in Thanos' face, he thinks wildly for a moment. If he could hit him directly, he could make a break for the back door. He could...

But then he remembers the high, stone wall surrounding Thanos' backyard. At least eight feet high. Loki would never be able to scale it. And the front door's too far away. He'd never make it before Thanos got to him, and then...

A loud bang against the kitchen table jolts Loki from his thoughts, Thanos smacking it with his palm, and he sees the larger man glaring at him with disdain.

It's everything Loki can do not to sob aloud, swallowing it down his tight throat and stepping forward, placing the toast down on the plate.

"'Bout fucking time." Thanos mutters, grabbing up a piece and biting a whole half of it off. "Fuckin' nitwit. What, were you daydreaming 'bout your lovemaking session last night? Ya know, Reed there's takin' a real liking to you Loki. I think he'll be back again this week, so don't you worry your pretty little head."

Loki goes numb, the color draining from his face and his heart kicking suddenly too hard in his chest.

Reed was the meanest of all of them. He... he always left Loki bleeding and so racked with pain he couldn't even move. Couldn't think.

No, he thinks miserably. No, no...

"... P-please, Thanos, pp-please, I don't..."

"Did I give you permission to talk?" Thanos cuts him off, and Loki immediately shuts down. "Yeah, that's a good boy. Now poor my fucking coffee."

He holds out his mug, and for several seconds, Loki can only stare numbly at it, his mind overwhelmed with thoughts of that man coming back, of what he'll do.

"NOW LOKI!" Thanos screams, and Loki starts, nearly dropping the pot, just barely managing to catch it.

"Sss-sorry, ss-ssorry..." he stammers weakly, moving to pour the coffee.

Only he misses.

He's shaking so hard now, he misses.

The coffee pours out, passing the mug and splattering against the table and floor.

Loki's heart jumps into his throat, and suddenly he can't breathe.

Oh God, no...

There's no warning. No prelude. No scolding.

Thanos' massive hand comes up, and an instant later, the back of it collides so hard with Loki's mouth, it sends him falling backwards, knocking him clean off his feet.

His head smashes against the oven's door handle, and the world explodes into spinning circles, his vision going pure white, fresh pain blooming like a knife through his temples.

The taste of metallic blood washes over his tongue, down his throat, and Loki blinks, the world refusing to stop spinning, too fast above him, round and round and round, his ears filled with a dull roar.

The ceiling, he realizes finally. He's looking at the ceiling.

The thought just barely occurs to him when his spotting vision is filled suddenly with Thanos' enraged face.

Loki gasps, fear like dying choking him fast, and thoughtlessly he throws his hands up over his face.

Oh please, oh God please, no...

It's useless.

Thanos grips Loki's wrists in his hands, his power crushing, the bones in his thin wrists grinding together.

Loki cries out even as Thanos yanks him up off the floor and to his feet, smashing him back against the refrigerator.

"You fucked up." He tells Loki flatly, and Loki gasps again, a broken sob slipping past his lips.

"I'm sorry!" He whines, Thanos' grip only tightening more, threatening to snap Loki's wrists. "Please!"

"Oh, I know your sorry, cum rag." Thanos hisses against his ear. "I know your real sorry. Just like you know you're gonna have to pay for that. Don't you?"

Loki is crying hard now, and he can't stop, can't control it.

"You know how?" Thanos goes on, and Loki feels his knee push in between his legs, pressing up into his crotch.

He chokes out a strangled sob.

"I'm sorry." He whimpers again, not knowing what else to say.

"Oh, you are a little cherry, ain't ya?" Thanos laughs, and Loki can feel the wetness of his tongue against his ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth.

"See, it wouldn'ta been so bad if you hadn't dropped the pot and broken all that glass all over my floor." Thanos says, breath hot. "If you'd just spilled the coffee, I woulda' let it go with just the backhand. But you had to drop the pot Loki."

"I'm ss-sss..." Loki can't get the words out, his head spinning with terror, bile turning sickeningly in his stomach.

Thanos is pressed up against him now, pinning him to the fridge door.

"You can make it up to me though, sweetheart. You know how?" He asks again, and Loki knows he's supposed to answer.

He can't speak though, he doesn't feel like he can breathe. He can only shake his head desperately.

Thanos pulls back, smirking down at him, still holding onto his wrists.

"You can suck my cock baby." He says.

Loki's vision blanks out for a minute, his knees buckling.

Somewhere he hears Thanos laughing, and then he comes back to himself, and realizes he's only being held up by virtue of Thano's hold on him.

"That's got you all hot and heavy, don't it babe." The older man is saying. "Well, I know you'll get off when I tell you this next part. You ready?"

"... Please..." Loki begs, his voice too soft to hear.

"You're gonna take all your clothes off. You're gonna get down on your hands and knees, and you're gonna suck my big, fat cock just like the good little whore I know you are. And guess what else Loki. You're gonna jerk yourself off while you're doing it. And if you don't fucking come when I do, I'm gonna give you a beating so bad, you won't remember your own fucking name. Got it?"

It's too much.

It's too much.

Loki doesn't realize what's happened until he feels the warmth down the inside of his thighs, and he hears Thanos laughing.

"Oh, look at that. Poor little baby's gone and pissed himself." He says. "I guess baby's gonna need a diaper change then, huh? Well, I can help with that."

Thanos lets go of Loki's wrists finally, only to reach out and grab hold of the pajama pants he has on, yanking them down his hips, all the way to his ankles, leaving his lower half naked.

"This too." He says, tearing Loki's t-shirt off, ripping the material to shreds. "Now get on your fucking knees cunt."

He puts his heavy hands on Loki's shoulders, forcing him down. Loki gives no resistance. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

He can only watch, resigned, as Thanos unbuttons his own pants, pulling them down past his hips and taking his penis out, already half-hard.

"I expect a good performance outta you Loki." He says, thumbing at the tip of his head. "I wanna explode into that hot little hold of a mouth you got. And you better motherfucking swallow it all down. If I see even a little escape, I'mma beat your ass too."

Loki doesn't have a chance to say anything, he wouldn't have anyway, he knows better, before Thanos is forcing his penis into his mouth, his fingers fisting in his hair, driving him down onto it.

The taste of it mixed with the blood in his mouth is sickening, and Loki nearly gags as Thanos drives forward, forcing his penis down his throat.

He has to swallow several times, forcing the bile back down as he tries to adjust to the length, his eyes burning with fresh tears.

"Don't forget yourself loverboy," Thanos says above him, kicking his knees apart. "Let's go."

Loki can't think.

He doesn't want to think. He doesn't want to feel anything. He wants to be dead. He wants to die.

His hand shakes uncontrollably as he struggles to find his own penis, flaccid and limp between his legs.

"Now fucker, let's go." Thanos tells him, jerking his hips forward.

Loki chokes, Thanos penis hitting hard against the back of his throat, and his eyes clamp shut as he begins to suck, his hand jerkily, mechanically pulling at his own dick.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh is loud in Loki's ears as Thanos continues pumping into his mouth, his muscular thigh's snapping against Loki's face.

The older man begins to moan softly and Loki keeps his eyes closed, his hand working himself dully.

He isn't getting hard. Oh God, oh God, he isn't...

"Come on baby," Thanos groans, his hand flattening against the back of Loki's head, pressing him harder into his groin. "that's it. Suck my cock faggot. Lemme feel that tongue of yours."

Loki knows what that means. He knows.

He tries hard. He can't think. He can't breathe. Oh God, he's going to be sick.

"Right there faggot. Right there. Ahh, oh y-yeah, come on cunt. My little faggot cunt... Lemme feel that tongue, come on..."

Loki's tongue feel's clumsy and weak, lapping weakly at Thano's head.

"Let's GO!" Thanos roars, jerking his hips violently forward, and Loki chokes again, his own hand stuttering to a stop between his legs.

He can't feel anything. His penis feels like dead flesh in his hand, dry and limp, and Thanos is going to beat him to hell, oh Christ, he's going to...

"Hmm, ya know, I think I had a little t-too much... uh... a little too much w-water last night. I feel like I gotta... gotta piss, huh..." Thanos says, and that's all the warning Loki gets before he feels the hot burst of liquid wash over his tongue and pour down his throat, and it's not come, Loki knows immediately. The acidic taste tells him exactly what it is.

He's going to throw up. He's going to, oh Jesus...

"I don't..." Thanos breathes heavily, continuing to rock forwards, slower now. "I don't see you gettin' hard down there Loki. Hmm, you... remember, you don't come w-when... when I do..."

He groans loudly, throwing his head back.

"Ohh, and I'm close now. I'm r-real close boy..."

Loki feels his heart beat in panic, tears refusing to stop, blinding his eyes.

He can't get hard. He pumps himself frantically, trying to make himself feel something, anything. But it's not happening, his body won't react at all.

It's too late.

He hears Thanos moan, long and loud, and a second later, the bitter taste of his come envelopes Loki's mouth.

He struggles desperately to swallow it down, to keep it from dribbling out the sides. He doesn't know why. He didn't come. He didn't even get hard.

When he feels a thick, wet warmth down his chin, he knows it's only going to be worse.

Thanos shoves him away after a few more thrusts of his his hips, and Loki falls limply back against the stove.

He curls in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest, as if that will somehow protect him, turning his face away and wiping with shaking hands at his mouth.

"Can't even follow simply instructions." Thanos says as he pulls his own pants back up. "Where's that vaunted intellect of yours, huh Loki?"

Loki says nothing.

He's scared. He feels sick and he's scared, he's so scared.

"Guess I'm gonna have to punish you again, huh baby boy?" Thanos continues. "Guess you really wanted that beating, didn't you?"

The bile churns worse, and Loki's mouth fills with saliva.

It happens before he can stop it. He vomits all over the floor.

Thanos erupts into laughter.

"Oh, I guess that's a resounding yes then, isn't it?" He bellows, and Loki grabs his head, pressing his hands over his ears.

"Well come on boy, lap it up!" Thanos says, reaching out and grabbing a handful of Loki's hair, forcing his face down into the puke. "Eat it all up. And then I'm gonna take you back to the bedroom and give you a real good whoopin'. Maybe if you're lucky, I'll fuck you up that perky little ass of yours too."

Loki vomits again.

He fades out after that.

He doesn't wake up again until Thanos breaks his nose.


	16. Chapter 16

Loki's cried himself out by the time they get back to their parent's place.

Now his brother only slumps, motionless in the passenger seat, his face turned away, staring silently out the window.

Thor feels bad. He shouldn't...

He shouldn't have yelled at Loki like that, he thinks miserably. 

It was hard enough for his brother now. He'd been through enough. It was just, Thor had been so scared. 

When he'd called up to Loki's room that lunch was ready, and there had been no answer, he'd felt his stomach flip in painful dread, just an awful feeling that Loki wasn't simply sleeping, wasn't in the bathroom and hadn't heard him.

He'd run up the stairs, taking two at a time, rushed up to Loki's door and banged on it, calling through to him.

Still, there had been no answer, and Thor's throat had gone dry as he'd grabbed the door handle and pushed it open.

He'd been met with nothing but an empty, silent space, and a soft breeze coming in through an opened window.

He'd absolutely lost it.

He'd run frantically into the room, shouting Loki's name, opening the closet and bathroom doors, searching madly, his heart racing painfully, and he'd thought no, no, no, this wasn't happening. This couldn't happen.

All of the noise he'd been making had of course attracted Mom's attention, and when she'd seen that Loki was gone, she'd lost it too, had immediately started crying, asking Thor where he was, as if he would know.

She'd called Dad up at work, sobbing into the phone that Loki was missing. Thor had been able to hear Odin's voice on the other end, loud and furious, asking what the hell she meant.

He'd come straight back home after Mom had explained.

By the time he'd gotten there, she and Thor had found Loki's note, sitting, inconspicuous, on his writing desk, saying he'd gone out, saying he'd gone to meet that guy, Steve whatever the hell his name was. That was it. That was it, and Thor an exploded into a rage.

How could Loki do this, he'd thought, and his own feeling of helplessness had only made him angrier. How could Loki be so stupid, so fucking reckless!?

If anything, if possible, Dad had been even angrier. Frighteningly so.

Thor's thinking about that now. Thinking about how he'd yelled at Loki for almost the entire ride back, about how Loki had just sat there, crying, saying over and over again that he was sorry.

Thor can't stand it. It's fucked. The whole things fucked.

He hasn't seen Loki cry this much since he was a little boy, and it's all shit.

He thinks about how proud Loki is, has always been. Thinks about how he'd always kept his emotions locked away so tightly inside himself, because he never wanted to seem weak.

He can't imagine what this is doing to his brother.

Dad is going to explode on him the moment they walk through the door. He knows it. And the way Loki is right now, after the chewing out Thor had given him, it's probably the last thing his brother needs.

Dad means well. So does Thor. But that's another thing they share. They've always let their emotions get in the way where Loki is concerned. 

Thor grips the steering wheel hard, looking down.

“... Are you okay?” He asks Loki. It's a stupid question. 

Loki had turned away from him after Thor had asked him what he meant, why it mattered that he'd dropped Steve's coffee. He'd turned away and gripped his head like it hurt, and hadn't said anything else. Not for the rest of the ride.

Loki doesn't say anything, and Thor sighs, frustrated and angry at himself now.

“... I'm sorry.” He forces himself to say. “I shouldn't have yelled so much at you. I just... I was worried.”

Loki remains silent, and Thor watches as he wraps his arms tighter around himself, continuing to stare out the window.

Thor can't even tell what he's thinking, if Loki is still upset, or if he's mad at him now. 

He shakes his head, feeling helpless.

“Okay. You don't have to talk to me Loki. But let's go in, alright?”

Loki continues to sit where he is a long moment, and then suddenly he's undoing his seat belt and opening the passenger door, getting out and slamming it shut behind him, making for the front door. 

He doesn't wait for Thor.

Thor feels his teeth grinding together.

“Fuck...” he mutters to himself, undoing his own belt and getting out, following slowly behind.

By the time he reaches the front door, left hanging open by Loki, he can already hear Dad's voice, yelling loudly, and he finds himself hesitating on the front stoop, not wanting to see the absolute shit storm that's currently unfolding.

It's Mom's voice, pleading, that finally gets Thor moving, stepping past the threshold and closing the door softly behind him.

Dad and Loki had been getting along remarkably well over the last week or so. Dad, in truth, had been going out of his way to spend time with Loki, taking time off work, asking Loki if he wanted to do anything together. He loved Loki so much, cared so much. That was something Loki had never gotten, had never been able to really see. Dad was harsh, that was true, and he didn't always understand everything, but Loki had been convinced for years that Odin didn't love him at all, and that had always been painful for Thor to see, because he'd always known it wasn't true. It wasn't true at all.

He'd tried making Loki see that, but Loki had always been so easily hurt, and had always struggled with believing anyone when they told him they cared.

And, Thor knew too, because Dad understood him better than he did Loki, because he saw more of himself in Thor, they had always had a better relationship, had always found more common ground between one another. Had enjoyed each others company more. Loki, of course, had seen that, and he'd blamed himself, thought it was something missing in himself that made Dad hate him.

Ever since he'd escaped from Thanos, Loki had been withdrawn and isolated in the extreme, spending almost all his time alone, up in his room, and at first he'd responded to Dad's attention almost warily, like he didn't quite trust it, didn't understand it. Almost like he thought Dad must be playing some cruel-hearted trick on him. Gradually, over a few days, Odin had been able to draw Loki out a bit, Loki agreeing to accompany him on outings, just the two of them going out to dinner, or going to a movie. Things like that.

Thor saw Dad giving Loki hugs, painful looking in their intensity, and Loki standing stiffly and awkwardly at times. At others, hugging Dad back with everything he had, burying his face against his fahter's shoulder and crying.

Thor had to look away at those times. 

Only he'd allowed himself to hope that maybe... maybe something good would come out of all this tragedy. Maybe Loki's and Dad's relationship would finally start to heal, maybe they could start over and find the love they actually had for one another, learn to express it better.

Standing here now, watching Dad, red-faced and screaming at nearly the top of his lungs, only inches from Loki, that hope feels like it's crumbling to dust and blowing away.

Loki is standing motionless, his face turned down to the floor, his arms limp at his side. Odin is right in his face, Mom standing a few feet back, her hand over her mouth and tears standing clearly in her eyes.

Loki looks defeated, and Thor feels suddenly like he's going to be sick.

This is worse, he thinks. This is worse then seeing Loki get into epic screaming matches with Dad. God, he... he wishes Loki would scream back now. He wishes Loki would fight, would stand up for himself. Something, anything. Anything other then his just standing there, unable to look Dad in the eye, unable to speak a word in his own defense.

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME BOY!?” Odin shouts. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE CAUSED? DO YOU EVEN CARE THAT YOU ALMOST SCARED YOUR MOTHER TO DEATH!?”

“Odin, please.” Frigga pleads, reaching out to him. “Don't. Don't do this. Can't you see he's in pain?”

Odin ignores her.

“You could have been killed out there Loki! You could have... could have been kidnapped by that lunatic again! Is that what you want? Is that what you want for yourself? What you want to do to all of us!? To your family!?”

Loki flinches minutely at Dad's raised voice, but otherwise doesn't move, doesn't say anything.

“We had no idea where you were boy! No idea what was happening. If anything had happened, no one would have been there to protect you! How could you be so damned stupid!? After everything! After what was done to you!”

Loki turns his face away, and Thor can see the tears now, slipping silently down his face. He looks bad. He looks sick or something, weak. He's shaking, trembling, and he seems so frail, so small.

“ANSWER ME BOY!” Odin roars, and suddenly he's reaching out, and everything seems to shift into a kalidascope of slow motion.

“No Dad...” Thor thinks, the words passing over his brain.

Only his mouth won't say them, and he can only stand there and watch as Dad buries his fists in the lapels of Loki's coat, tugging him forward.

It isn't even violent. Odin doesn't pull on Loki very hard even. Just tugs him forward.

But that's all it takes.

Thor sees Loki's eyes go wide and white, his lips parting in utter shock.

He loses it.

The moment Odin's hands are on him, Loki starts hyperventilating, his breaths coming ragged and loud and frantic, almost wheezing out of him.

He flails, and the sight is fucking heartbreaking.

He pushes against Odin, his efforts weak and pitiful, doing absolutely nothing to get himself free.

Dad seems frozen a moment, as if he doesn't understand what's happening, continuing to hold onto his youngest son.

And then Loki screams.

Odin starts violently, his hands letting go, his eyes wide and bewildered and frightened.

Loki is pulling away when he does, trying desperately, frantically to free himself. The moment Dad's grip loosens, Loki loses his balance, falling backwards.

He hits the ground hard, a soft cry slipping from his lips when he does, and Thor's heart kicks painfully in his chest, knowing how bruised and banged up Loki still is, knowing how much the fall must have hurt, fearing his brother's fragile body may have easily been re-injured.

All this happens within a few moments, yet to Thor it seems to last an eternity.

And then Mom's horrified voice breaks through the haze.

“Oh God, Loki!” She cries, and in an instant, she's going to him, half throwing herself, dropping to her knees at his side.

Loki sits there, eyes big and scared, staring ahead at nothing, his chest heaving.

He looks like a little boy, his entire body trembling viciously.

He doesn't even seem to realize Mom is beside him until she touches him, and he flinches violently, almost falling over onto his side, a sharp, painful sounding gasp tearing from his throat.

“No...” he moans weakly, curling away from her, and for an awful instant, Thor thinks Loki doesn't even know where he is.

Frigga's eyes fill with tears, pouring down her face, her hand again covering her mouth, shaking.

“Baby,” she cries. “oh, my baby...”

Odin steps forward, his hands raised up, a stunned, pained look on his face.

“Loki, I....” He starts, realizing what he's done, horrified.

“No...” Loki moans again, quieter.

He pulls farther away from Mom, turning from her completely.

“I don't...” he says weakly. “I don't... I don't...”

Mom sobs brokenly.

“Baby, you don't what? What is it?” She pleads, again reaching for him, stopping just short of touching him.

Loki sits silent a moment, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. He shakes his head hard, and then he's starts, rolling over onto his hands and knees, trying to stand.

His knees buckle, and he crashes back to the floor.

“Loki,” Thor starts, alarmed, moving to his side.

He reaches down, taking gentle hold of his brother's arm, his heart aching at how bony it feels, even beneath the layers of his coat and shirt.

Loki moves again to stand up, and Thor pulls him to his feet, holding him steady.

“Are you alright?” He asks, bending down, trying to look into Loki's face. “Are you having an asthma attack?”  
Loki keeps his face turned down, Thor still holding onto his arm.

He doesn't say anything for a long moment, and then he shakes his head again.

“I want... I'd like to... t-to go to my room now.” He finally says softly. “... May I... may I go?”

“Loki, I'm sorry.” Dad starts, his voice unusually distraught, almost pleading. “Please,”

“Can I go to my room please?” Loki says again, as if he hasn't even heard Dad. “I want to go to my room.”

He won't look at any of them.

“You can go honey.” Frigga answers him finally, standing. “Thor, help him to his room?”

“Sure Mom.” Thor answers. “Come on Loki. It's okay.”

He puts his arm around his brother's shoulders, and Thor can't help feeling relieved when Loki sinks against his side, allowing his support.

“It'll be okay Loki.” He presses his mouth against his brother's temple, kissing him softly.

Loki doesn't say anything at all, his hands only finding Thor's shirt, curling desperately into the material.

//

Loki looks down at his stomach, at the way it sinks in, concave, and he feels ashamed.

He remembers, before... before everything, he'd started going to the gym, just a couple days a week. But he'd started building some muscle, if only a little. He remembers being so proud of that fact. Of his little muscles.

He'd always been so thin, he'd started developing a six pack without even really trying, and he'd shown off to Thor, he remembers.

God, he must have looked so pathetic to his brother. To Thor, who'd been absolutely shredded since the time he'd been fourteen, fifteen years old, huge and muscular and so ridiculously strong, so athletic. And there Loki had been, with his sorry little build, so proud and cocky, flexing his stupid arms and posing in front of him.

But Thor hadn't laughed, the way he should have. 

He'd only smiled, encouraging and kind, told Loki he was proud of him, told Loki how amazing he looked.

Loki had felt so puffed up, so accomplished.

He looks at himself now, and all he feels is pathetic.

He's as scrawny now as he'd been when he was thirteen years old.

He thinks of Steve. Of how beautiful he'd looked. How broad his shoulders and chest were, how defined. How handsome his face was.

Loki lets his eyes slip closed and leans his forehead against the wet tiles of the shower stall, letting the warm spray from above wash over him.

He thinks about Steve, about his own humiliation, longing and fear and anger swirling mercilessly in his brain, making him feel sick in the pit of his stomach.

He reaches his hand between his legs and wraps it around his penis, tugging on it mechanically.

He hasn't touched himself in so long. Not by his own choice. Not unless Thanos had made him...

His hand freezes and his eyes squeeze tighter shut, his teeth clenching, trying desperately to shove the images from his mind.

Not now, he thinks woefully. Not now.

He wants to feel something, anything that isn't... that isn't what he feels all the time now. He wants to feel something good. 

“Please,” he stutters to himself, squeezing his hand tighter, running his thumb over the head of his penis.

Thanos had used to put his fingers up him, stroking his prostrate until Loki had become hard. He hadn't been able to do anything. Hadn't been able to fight, his wrists always locked above his head, his body reacting against his will.

Thanos would leave him like that then. Wouldn't touch him anywhere else, would only work his prostrate until Loki was fully aroused, pre-come leaking from the tip of his penis, a burning, agonizing need for release built to an awful peak in the pit of his stomach.

And then he would leave, Loki handcuffed to the bed frame, sobbing, because he wanted, oh God, he'd wanted Thanos to come back and finish him. To make him orgasm. He'd even... God, oh God, he'd even begged Thanos once, begged him to...

Stop it, he thinks viciously, desperately. Stop.

He works himself now for long minutes before he even begins to feel anything, focusing on images of Steve, trying to hold onto them, to focus on them.

He hates himself for it, but he doesn't know what else to do.

He doesn't want to think about anything else.

“Ah...” he breathes, trying to keep quiet. Not wanting anyone to hear.

A slow, muted swell of pleasures curls low in his stomach, and he thunks his head against the tile again, keeping his eyes closed.

“Come on...” he says softly, jerking harder, desperately, digging the nail on his thumb into the slit of his penis.

He thinks maybe he wants to hurt himself. Wants to cut himself open and watch his blood run red out of his veins, like he used to.

Mom would be sad, if he did.

He comes weakly, a pitiful whimper slipping past his lips when he does, seeming to feel hardly anything at all.

He feels dirty afterward, gross and stupid.

He falls back against the wall of the shower, sliding down until he's sitting on the floor, the warm water spraying over him.

He stays there like that for a long time, until the water turns cold and the beat of it against his skin leaves him numb.


	17. Chapter 17

Loki won't come out of his room.

He's been in there for days now, and none of them know what to do.

Mom's been frantic, and Dad, after initially trying to talk to Loki again, standing outside his door and speaking through it, begging him to come out, apologizing again and again for what he'd done, Loki remaining mute and unresponsive, has thrown himself into his work, spending longer hours than what was even usual at the office.

Thor doesn't know what to think. What to feel.

As a precaution, to keep Loki from sneaking out again, Dad had had a lock put on the outside of his bedroom window, only able to be opened from the outside.

Loki hadn't said anything about it, hadn't given any indication of how that made him feel.

That, more than anything, is what has Thor so scared now.

The Loki he knows, the Loki from before, would have gone ballistic. He would have scratched and clawed and fought it in any way he knew how. Wouldn't have put up with it for a minute.

The Loki Thor knows had always been volatile, had always had an at times frightening temper, slow burning as it was. But he'd always fought for himself. No matter what. No matter how he was outgunned.

Thor remembers, when Loki had been about sixteen, seventeen, he'd been out almost every night, doing God only knew what.

He'd been getting into a lot of trouble then. Been running with a lot of the wrong sorts of people, been heavy into drugs.

All of them had been worried.

Loki wouldn't get home sometimes until three, four in the morning. Sometimes he'd be high out of his mind, his pupils like pin pricks. Sometimes he'd be absolutely smashed on alcohol, barely able to stand, crashing through the front door and stumbling over furniture.

There were times when Loki would go days without saying a word to anyone, when he would be nearly catatonic, moody as hell and pissed. Other days, he would be hyper and agitated and jumpy.

Things had been bad then. At their worst, really.

Loki hadn't been eating either, too fucked up on drugs to even remember to, sometimes too depressed.

Thor remembers how he'd lost so much weight, and it had been absolutely terrifying, because Loki had always been painfully thin anyway. He remembers looking at his brother, seeing his shirts sag down over his slim shoulders, the jut of his collar bone peeking out, almost sickeningly pronounced. Remembers one time seeing Loki with no shirt at all, when they'd all been hanging out by the family home's pool, thinking how his brother looked sick. Not just too skinny. He'd looked sick, like he was dying or something.

That was when he and Mom and Dad had started talking with each other about some kind of intervention.

The screaming matches between Loki and Dad had been epic then too. Thor remembers the slightest things setting his brother off. And Dad had always had a knack for saying the wrong thing to him. He'd talked to Loki about going into rehab, and Loki had exploded on him, on all of them, really, accusing them of conspiring against him, of trying to control him and ruin his life.

One time Thor been home, visiting, eating breakfast at the counter in their kitchen. Loki had walked in, looking like absolute shit, the dark circles under his eyes so black it looked like he'd been punched in the face, his hair a disheveled mess, looking like it hadn't been trimmed in months, his clothes hanging off his frail looking body. If Loki had been capable of growing a beard, Thor recalls thinking, he probably would have had a thick one.

He hadn't said anything, hadn't even looked at Thor, simply walking right past, opening the fridge and rummaging through noisily.

Thor had stared at him, worried, gnawing on his lower lip and wondering if he should say anything.

Loki had always tried to hide it, keeping his skinny arms locked against his sides, or wearing long sleeved shirts, even in the summer, but Thor could always catch glimpses of the track marks down the inside of his brother's elbows.

He'd known enough by then to know that trying to corner Loki was always the wrong approach with him, and so he hadn't said anything. Anything much, anyway.

He'd asked Loki how he was, when he'd finally decided on a bowl of cereal, sitting down at the dining table, opposite the counter. Thor had been relieved to see Loki eating at all.

The second the question had passed Thor's lips though, Loki had dropped his spoon into his bowl with a loud clatter, had stared ahead of himself blankly for what seemed forever, before snapping his head in Thor's direction, giving him a baleful glare.

"Like you fucking care Thor." He'd said, before pushing back in his seat and stalking out of the room without another word.

Thor still doesn't know what he'd said or done to piss Loki off so much that day.

It hadn't been long after that that Loki had found out he was adopted, and the shit had really hit the fan. Shortly following, he'd gotten arrested for vandalism and minor drug possession, and Mom and Dad had finally stepped in, forcing Loki into therapy.

Things had fallen somewhat into place then, when they'd all finally realized Loki was suffering from some very real mental conditions. Depression and, Dr. Banner thought, bipolar disorder.

Around that time too, of course, he'd moved in with Thor, and things had actually started to get better for his brother.

At least it seemed like.

He'd gotten off the drugs, he's stopped drinking mostly. Had gained a little weight. Had seemed... happier. Things between him and Odin had still been bad, but Loki hadn't been losing his shit every five minutes like before, and things remained, mostly, calm whenever he and Thor went over to their parent's to visit.

And then he'd met Thanos.

And now, everything seems to be right back where it had been, only worse.

It's worse now.

They're all scared.

Thor and Mom and Dad.

None of them know what to do.

Thor is standing outside Loki's door now, indecisive and worried.

He's been standing here at least five minutes, just listening.

He can't hear anything now. No sound of Loki moving around, no noise of any sort.

Finally, Thor lifts his hand and knocks on the door.

"Loki?" He calls.

Nothing.

Thor feels his concern grow.

He'd fucked up. Dad had fucked up.

He shouldn't have yelled at his brother like he had. Dad shouldn't have either. Shouldn't have put his hands on Loki.

He'd just been...

Thor doesn't know what Loki had been doing. What he'd been thinking.

Trying to get some semblance of normalcy back in his life, maybe.

Trying to forget.

Instead he'd only been reminded again of everything bad in his life, everything horrible.

Thor and Odin hadn't done anything to help. They'd only made it worse, only emphasized to Loki how much things had changed for him, because of what someone else had done. What someone else had done to him.

God, Thor thinks despairingly, how lonely Loki must be.

He knocks again, the worry churning in his stomach starting to make him feel sick.

"Loki, please." He begs. "You need to come out and eat something at least."

Still no answer, and Thor can't take it anymore.

He grabs the knob and pushes the door open, relieved to find it unlocked.

"Loki?" He peeks his head through, glancing around.

His heart sinks and thuds against his ribs as he takes in the disarray of the room, piles of books and clothes strewn haphazardly across the carpeted floor, notebook pages littering every corner, scrawled from top to bottom with Loki's beautiful cursive, used towels piled up.

Loki had always been such a neat freak. Almost obsessive compulsive about it. About his person, about the space around him.

Seeing his room so cluttered and disorganized serves to only brutally remind Thor of how wrong everything is now.

His attention is held by the mess for only a moment though, as his eyes land on Loki's bed, pushed up against the room's farthest back corner, and his brother upon it.

Thor feels his chest constrict with pain.

Loki is lying with his back to him, his torso naked. Even from here, Thor can see every knot of his brother's spine, starkly down the center, can see his ribs pressing pronouncedly against his white, white skin, the blades of his shoulders sticking out so sharply. There's no real muscle on him, no fat. It's horrible to look at.

The bruises are, at last, starting to fade, turned now to an ugly, mottled yellow and green. They still look so painful.

Thor watches him a long moment, dread filled, looking for the rise and fall of his brother's breathing.

He sees it, though it seems like it's just barely there.

"Loki," he calls again, more softly.

Loki doesn't move, doesn't answer him. Thor doesn't think he's asleep though. His breathes seem too shallow, too erratic.

He bites his lip, uncertain a moment, before he finally decides he can't leave Loki alone anymore.

He steps into the room, closing the door softly behind him, and makes his way over to his brother's bed.

"Loki?" He says again, coming around the foot of it, looking down at Loki.

His brother is only wearing a pair of shorts, nothing else, his skinny, pale legs drawn up against himself, his blanket kicked down to the foot of the bed. His hands are curled against his bruised, thin chest, his eyes open, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

Still he doesn't answer Thor.

Thor's hands curl and uncurl at his sides, and for a moment, he has to look away from Loki, the sight of him overwhelmingly painful.

It takes him a few moments to build to courage to look back, and he lowers himself onto the mattress, reaching out a careful hand and laying it on Loki's bony shoulder.

"Loki, you've got to eat something." He says quietly. "You can't stay in here like this."

"... Go away Thor." Loki finally speaks, his voice rough and hoarse from disuse. There's no life in it. No energy.

"Loki, Jesus, come on." Thor answers, a familiar feeling of desperation blooming in the pit of his stomach. "Look at you. You've lost even more weight I think. Honey, you can't do this."

"I can do what I want Thor." Loki replies in that same, dead tone.

Thor feels heavy with frustration and fear.

"Loki, you can't starve yourself to death. I won't let you. Come on. Just come downstairs and have something to eat at least."

Loki doesn't respond for long seconds, and Thor begins to think he won't at all, when abruptly his brother sits up, so quickly it's almost violent. He turns towards Thor, fixing him with a glare so full of anger and pain, that Thor nearly flinches back from it.

"You won't let me?" Loki says, his voice low, hissing out. "And how exactly are you going to stop me?"

Thor blinks, bewildered, his mind, for a moment, going blank.

Loki turns more fully towards him, his teeth bared.

"What are you going to do Thor? Are you going to hold me down and force me to eat? Or maybe you'll just beat me up if I don't do what you say."

Thor's mouth drops open in confusion and horror.

"God Loki, no." He breathes after a moment. "You know I woul..."

"You wouldn't." Loki cuts him off, sharp and furious. "But wouldn't it be so much easier? If you did? After all, Thor, you're so much stronger than me."

And suddenly Loki is lifting his hands, shoving them against Thor's chest with what seems like everything he has. Like he's trying to push Thor right off the bed.

It's pitiful, how weak he is.

Thor doesn't budge. He hadn't even been trying to resist.

His brother's lip curls, his face seeming to spasm, some emotion which Thor can't read washing across it. His eyes shine too brightly then, and suddenly he turns away, his shoulders slumping.

"Go away Thor." He says flatly. "Please. I just want to be left alone."

Thor doesn't know what to do.

He can't leave Loki like this. Can't allow his brother to do this to himself, to suffer like this. Can't allow him to starve himself. Not again.

But he can't force him either. Not after everything. Not after he'd been forced to do so much already.

He doesn't want to hurt Loki any worse than he already is, God...

"Loki, please." Thor begs, desperate and frightened. "Just come down to the kitchen and eat something. It... it doesn't have to be a lot. Just something. I promise you, it'll be okay."

Loki only sits there for a long moment, saying nothing, before he turns away from Thor completely, lying back down on his side, facing the wall again.

"I'm tired Thor." He says, so softly Thor almost misses it completely. "I want to sleep."

"Loki..." he tries, desperate.

"Just leave me alone Thor." His brother cuts him off. "Please."

Thor doesn't know what else to say after that. Not without making it worse.

Reluctantly then, he stands, moving away, towards the door. He turns one last time, staring at his brother's still back, before finally leaving, guilt and fear churning like a sickness in his gut.

/

Steve stares at his phone, his thumb poised over the screen, hesitating.

He remembers the number Loki had given him. His older brother's number. He could dial it right now. But then what? He thinks.

Thor clearly didn't like him. That was putting it mildly. Didn't want him involved with Loki, didn't want them seeing each other. But...

After what had happened, the state Loki had been in, the way his brother had dragged him off, Steve didn't feel right about any of it. Didn't feel right about just leaving it alone.

Loki had been distressed, afraid, and Thor, whether intentional or not, had been manhandling him, bullying him, and, in Steve's view, that had been the last thing Loki needed.

There also was the fact that Steve still didn't know if it had been Thor who had done that to Loki's face.

Something deep down told him probably not. Loki had said it wasn't him, and it sounded like the truth to Steve. But still, he didn't know, and that made him uncomfortable, guilt and worry warring inside him at the thought that, if Thor was abusing Loki, and Steve just... left him there, with him...

He would never forgive himself if Loki was in danger and he could have done something to help him, but hadn't...

And that decides it for him. Too bad, he thinks, if Thor gets pissed at him for calling. He can't just leave it like he did.

He dials the number, and it rings so many times, Steve thinks nobody is going to answer. But then he hears a click, and a moment later, a gruff, tired sounding voice on the other end.

"Hello?" It asks, and it's Thor's voice. Steve recognizes it easily.

"Hi." He starts awkwardly, hesitant. "Thor?"

"Yeah." Thor says. "Who's this?"

Steve hesitates again, before deciding the hell with it.

"This is Steve. Rogers. You know, the guy your brother went out with the other day?"

There's a long pause on the other end of the line, and then he hears Thor breathe in sharply, letting it go in a loud rush.

"... What do you want?" He asks, and he sounds about as pissed as Steve imagined he would be.

"I wanted to ask how Loki was." Steve presses on, determined. "He was pretty shaken up last time."

There's another long pause, and for a moment, Steve fears Thor will just hang up on him.

But then he hears the other man sigh deeply.

"... He's not doing well, if you want an honest answer."

Steve feels his jaw clench, surprise washing through him. He hadn't expected such a blunt reply. Hadn't expected that kind of honesty.

"... I'm sorry." He says slowly.

"... Thank you." Thor says softly, again surprising Steve. "Listen, I didn't do that to my brother. I didn't hit him. I never would."

The sincerity in the other man's voice is enough in that moment to convince Steve he's telling the truth, and suddenly he feels bad about ever having accused him. There's pain in Thor's voice, an almost gut wrenching sadness.

"Okay." Steve says quietly. "I know."

"... My brother..." Thor starts, then stops, and Steve can tell, even over the phone, that the man is struggling not to cry. Guilt churns harder in Steve, and concern. "My brother was with someone. He was... I shouldn't be telling you this. He would kill me if he knew."

Still feels anxious suddenly, half wanting to know, half not.

"It's okay." He starts. "You don't have to..."

But then Thor keeps talking, it just pouring out of him.

"He was with someone. My brother. With a man who... "Thor's voice hitches, and there are clear tears in it now. "he kidnapped Loki. Kept him hostage for almost a year. He..."

Steve's gut clenches, his heart beating hard against his chest.

"Loki was with him. My brother trusted him, and he..."

Thor can't seem to finish, but Steve already knows what he's going to say, what he means.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" He asks instead, meaning it. God, he wishes there were something. He thinks about Loki, thinks about the afternoon they spent together, about what a sweet kid he thought Loki was, how much fun they had before Loki had had his attack. What a smart, funny, person Loki is.

Why would somebody want to hurt him like that? How could they want to?

Sadness and anger both war inside of Steve. The world could be so ugly, he thinks dismally. It was full of such ugly people sometimes.

"I don't know." Thor says, clearing his throat. "I don't know if... he's always been prone to depression, but now he... he won't come out of his room. He isn't eating. I don't know why I'm telling you this. We've tried talking to him. All of us, he just... he won't..."

"Would it..." Steve starts, unsure. "would it help maybe if I talked to him? I could... I don't know... I could come over maybe, if you... if your family thought it might help."

There's a stretch of silence, and Steve hopes he hasn't somehow overstepped his bounds, hasn't offended Thor.

"... Would you?" Thor says, to his surprise. "It... I don't know if it will, but it might help. Loki, he... he likes you, I think. He wouldn't have gone out with you if he didn't really like you."

"I can come right after work." Steve tells him. "I get off in about an hour. Is that good?"

/

Thanos stands with his arms crossed across his chest, grinning to himself as he watches the house.

He's been coming here the last couple of days, just watching who comes and goes, what times they leave and so on.

He's already starting to get a good idea of the schedule that all of them are on.

He's even seen Loki, a few times.

Delicate flower that he is, still all bruised up and walking stiffly. That had made Thanos laugh.

Stupid, too, Thanos thinks, to come out of the house at all. To expose himself like that. But then, Loki never was as smart as he gave himself credit for.

Thanos had checked out his brother's apartment first, found it empty. He'd known then the little fucker must have come here, to Mommy and Daddy. And of course, his big, bad brother was staying here too.

Loki probably cried to them, all about what horrible things he went through, and of course they probably all ran and coddled him like the fucking spoiled little brat that he was.

Well, Thanos thinks, the little bitch hadn't seen anything yet. He couldn't wait to show Loki just how bad things could really get.

Just a little while longer. His family wouldn't leave him alone in the house just yet. Not for another few weeks, probably. But they would have to, eventually. They all had jobs, after all. And when they did, well...

Thanos couldn't wait for that.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head baby," he says to himself, grin growing wider. "you and me, we'll be back together real soon."


	18. Chapter 18

There's a knock on his door again, and Loki furrows deeper into his covers, wishing uselessly that whoever it was this time would just go away.

It seemed to him that they wouldn't leave him alone. Mom, Dad, Thor, all of them coming in a repeated loop every day, begging him to come out, to eat something, offering to spend time with him, trying to coax him into going out with them somewhere.

They were just worried about him. Loki knows that.

It doesn't keep him from wishing they would stop. From wishing they would just go away.

Another knock, and he continues to ignore it.

"Loki," he hears Thor's voice then. "there's... there's someone here to see you."

Dr. Banner, Loki thinks miserably.

They probably called him, asked him if he would come to the house, since Loki had refused to go see him at his office.

Oh, God, he doesn't want to talk to Dr. Banner. Not now. He can't... He can't handle it. He doesn't want to discuss his problems with anyone. Doesn't want to talk about how he feels.

He already knows.

He wishes some days he could just die. Wishes some days he'd never been born.

Some days, he hates himself so much, it's like he's choking on it, like he can't breathe for how much he despises his very existence.

Dr. Banner would be so concerned. He would ask Loki if he was having thoughts of hurting himself, and Loki would think yes, even while telling the psychiatrist no. Would ask Loki if he was taking his medications, and Loki, again, would lie and tell him yes.

He'd gone nine and more months without taking a single pill, hadn't he? And hadn't he been just fucking fine? What difference did it make if he didn't take the pills now then?

What difference did any of it make?

"Loki?" Thor again calls through the door, and Loki buries his fingers in his hair, pressing his palms over his ears.

"Go away Thor." He calls back weakly, his voice, he thinks, probably too soft for his brother to have even heard.

And then he hears another voice, muffled through the thick wood of his door, but Loki recognizes it all the same.

He sits straight up, eyes wide and his heart thudding almost sickeningly against his ribs, a kind of panic choking him.

Why would... why was Steve Rogers here? Why was he...

"Loki?" He hears Steve call then, and Loki almost rockets onto his feet, a rush of dizziness nearly putting him down again. "Uh, h-hi. Um, it's Steve. Steve Rogers. I hope I'm not, uh, not invading your privacy. I called your brother to... to make sure you were doing alright, after... after last time. He told me I should come over and maybe try to talk to you."

Shit, Loki thinks. Shit, shit, shit...

He looks around his room, and for the first time in days, he really notices just what a colossal mess it is. Just how dirty and disgusting.

And then he looks down at himself, and sees he's no better.

He'd been wearing the same clothes for nearly a week, right now clad in nothing more than a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. Hasn't showered in two days. He's absolutely disgusting, and Steve Rogers is standing outside his bedroom door, wanting to talk to him.

"Loki?" He hears Steve call again, and he looks up at the door, the panic clenching down harder on his stomach. He feels abruptly nauseous.

"Uh, j-just... just a minute." He calls back, finally, and he can hear how his own voice is rough and dry from disuse, from crying.

He tugs at his hair, almost frantic as his mind races. He doesn't know what to do. There's no way he can get all the junk cleaned up, not fast enough, no way he can make himself look even halfway decent.

He looks at the floor, eyes searching for a pair of trousers. He spots them, half buried under a pile of other clothes, plain black slacks.

Grabbing them up, he quickly and clumsily steps into them, pulling them up around his waist and buttoning them. They nearly slip back down to his ankles, hanging precariously off his hips.

Belt... he needs a belt, his eyes searching the wreckage of his room again. He finds one, draped over the back of a chair, hastily looping it through the pants, needing to synch the thing to nearly its tightest hole before the slacks band stays up around his waist.

He rushes into the bathroom then, looking at himself in the mirror, horror blooming in his expression at the sight of him.

He looks like absolute shit, his hair a tangled mess, his eyes blood shot, streaks of dried tears down his gaunt cheeks.

Steve is going to think he's repulsive, is Loki's first thought.

With shaky hands he turns on the faucet to his sink, cupping water in his palms and splashing it over his face, and again, and again, trying to wash away the evidence of his tears.

It does nothing to hide any of it, he thinks, as he looks back at his reflection, face now dripping water.

And abruptly then, an almost overwhelming rage fills him, his teeth grinding together, hands gripping painfully hard along the edges of the sink as he leans over it. Why the fuck had Thor asked Steve to come over anyway? Hadn't he told Loki that he wasn't allowed to see the older boy? That he wasn't allowed to go out, wasn't allowed to do anything?!

Rage turns blinding then, and without thought, Loki lashes out, smashing his fisted hand against the glass of the mirror.

The glass shatters, the tinkling noise of it falling into the porcelain of the sink filling Loki's ears.

He feels an odd warmth across his knuckles, and down the inside of his wrist, and he blinks, coming suddenly back to himself. He looks down at his hand, and sees that he's bleeding.

He hadn't even realized...

And then the pain hits him, sharp and vicious. He curls his fingers unthinkingly, balling his hand against his chest.

"... Damn it." He hisses to himself.

"Loki?!" There's a loud knocking on his bedroom door, Thor's voice floating through. "What was that?"

Loki fumbles with the frame of the now broken mirror, pulling open the medicine cabinet and riffling through its contents, looking frantically for the Band-Aids. His hands are shaking worse now, and as he finds the box, his useless fingers drop it.

He curses, bending down to pick it up off the floor.

He hears his bedroom door come open, Thor's and Steve's voices reaching his ears, and a kind of renewed panic envelops him, his motions hurried and clumsy as he tries tearing the box of Band-Aids open.

It's too late anyway. Thor will see the broken glass, will see the blood, will assume the worst.

And Steve...

Steve already knows what he is, Loki supposes. Already sees what a weak, pathetic child he is. Has always seen him as that, really. What difference did it make now? Steve was only here because he felt sorry for him. Not because... not for...

"Oh God, Loki!" Thor is there then, standing in the threshold of the bathroom door. A moment later, he's rushing to Loki's side, kneeling down in front of him and pulling his curled hand out.

Loki turns his face away, humiliation and the remanants of anger still swirling in his head.

"What did you do to yourself?" Thor asks, forcing Loki's hand open and looking at the damage.

It hurts, but Loki swallows down his hiss of pain, forcing the stinging in his eyes back.

"Oh..." He hears Steve behind him then, and shame heats Loki's face completely. "Oh, is... is he alright? Loki, are you alright?"

He sounds so earnest, Loki thinks. So concerned.

He doesn't answer, doesn't say anything. He just wants everyone to go away. To stop looking at him, stop pitying him.

"Christ, Loki, this..." Thor says, pulling his hand closer, and Loki lets him, not even resisting. "these cuts are really deep. Did you..."

"It was an accident." Loki lies lamely. Even Thor probably isn't dull enough to fall for that one.

As if to confirm his thoughts, his brother stares at him hard a moment, before shaking his head.

"This looks like it's going to need stitches." He says, his voice on the edge of chastisement.

Loki shrugs, still looking away.

Thor sighs, and all Loki hears is disappointment. Of course. That's all he is, after all. That's all he's ever been. All he ever will be.

"I'm sorry, Steve?" Thor starts, turning and reaching back behind him, pulling open the cabinet attached to the vanity, searching for a moment before he retrieves a dry cloth, along with a first aid kit. "Can you soak this in warm water? I need to clean these cuts out."

"Oh, of course!" Steve answers, moving to do as he's asked, taking the cloth from Thor and moving towards the sink.

"I can take care of myself." Loki mutters, more to himself than to anyone, and he doesn't think Thor even hears him. If he does, he ignores it, taking the cloth from Steve and holding Loki's hand out flat, beginning to wash the blood from his torn up knuckles.

It stings badly, and Loki can't quite hold in the sharp hiss of pain.

"I'm sorry." Thor tells him gently, and irrationally, Loki wants to tell him to go fuck himself. He just manages to clamp down on the impulse though, knowing that isn't fair.

He feels a warm hand on his shoulder then, squeezing gently, and he starts, looking back and seeing Steve standing there, looking down at him.

"You're okay." He tells Loki, a forced smile on his face.

Loki turns away, embarrassed, wanting suddenly to stand up and run, to get out from under Steve's eyes. God, he must think I'm such a loser, he thinks miserably.

"... I'm sorry." He says instead, his eyes focusing on the tiled floor. "I know things look a real mess. I wasn't... wasn't expecting company today."

"No, it's..." Steve starts. "I probably shouldn't have just dropped by unannounced like I did. I just thought... I wanted to see you... is all."

Loki feels his heart twist strangely at that, surprise bursting inside him at the words. Steve wanted to see him? After everything? That didn't... didn't make any sense, Loki thinks. Wasn't right.

Thor is wrapping Loki's hand in gauze now, and Loki stares dully as the white material quickly soaks through with blood.

He really hadn't meant to hurt himself like that.

He feels stupid suddenly, and selfish.

Thor doesn't deserve this. Loki can see from the set of his broad shoulders how tense he is, how stressed out, and that's Loki's fault too. And now he probably will have to go to the hospital again, this time for stitches, more money, more worry for his family.

More of a burden. And that's always what he's been, he supposes.

He wonders sometimes how often Odin and Frigga regret ever adopting him, how often they wish they had never lain eyes on him.

Sometimes, Loki thinks, it would have been easier, been better, if he'd just been allowed to die, abandoned on the street. His father, his real father, must have taken one look at him and known. Must have thought this isn't worth saving, this isn't worth keeping.

This isn't worth loving.

And Loki feels suddenly overwhelmed, humiliation choking him now.

Abruptly he pulls his hand from Thor and pushes himself, staggering, to his feet.

"I have to..." he starts, scarcely knowing what he even wants, or what he means to say. Just knowing he has to be alone. "t-to use the bathroom." He at last manages. "Can I..."

He gestures vaguely at the surrounding room, hoping Thor and Steve both get the hint.

Steve is the first to, his eyes going wide as he begins to stammer out.

"Oh... Oh! Of course, huh, right. Of course."

Thor seems to realize it a moment later, only he hesitates, looking at Loki with uncertainty.

"Are you..." he starts, his uncertainty turning to naked concern. "are you going to be alright in here?"

Loki knows what he's asking. What he really means. He's asking Loki if he's going to hurt himself, if he's going to cut himself open with the glass shards still in the sink.

Abruptly then, anger boils up inside him, and he can't control it.

"I'm fine Thor." He snaps. "I'm not a child."

Even as the words leave his mouth, Loki is painfully aware of the irony in them.

That's exactly what he's been acting like, isn't it? A child? A helpless fucking infant who can't... can't do anything for himself?

And now Thor has that sad look on his face, the one he always gets whenever Loki yells at him, such a look of disappointment, and Loki can hardly stand it. Here, in front of Steve most of all, who must be looking at them both with horror and disgust. He's seen too many times now what a dysfunctional, screwed up mess they all are. There's no way... no way he can be anything but sickened.

"I'm fine." Loki repeats more calmly, turning away. "Just, give me a minute. Okay?"

Both Thor and Steve agree, finally, leaving him be then, closing the bathroom door behind them.

Loki staggers over to the toilet bowel, nearly collapsing onto its seat, sinking his head into his hands.

"Christ," he mutters to himself. He doesn't know what he's doing.

Steve's here. Steve said he wanted to see him. But...

All those daydreams Loki had had as a young pre-teen, about going up to Steve Rogers, having the balls to ask him out, his stupid fantasies about Steve actually saying yes, actually be into him. None of them had been remotely like this, the ugly, awkward and embarrassing reality.

Steve isn't into him at all, Loki thinks. He only came by to check on him because he was a good guy, a thoughtful person. That had to be it. By the time Loki worked up the guts to actually go back out there, he'd probably be gone already, making some excuse for why he had to go.

Loki couldn't even blame him. If he were in Steve's position, that's probably exactly what he would do too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much again to all my readers and reviewers! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and so sorry for the long wait between. Hopefully it won't take so long next time!


	19. Chapter 19

Thor gives his brother not even five minutes to come out on his own before he's again back at the closed bathroom door, banging on it and calling through to the other side.

"Loki, is everything alright in there?"

Steve stands back, watching, concerned, his mind whirling with unwelcome thoughts.

Whatever was going on with Loki, it was obviously deeply serious, and Steve, blindly or with open eyes, had walked into it. Now found himself involved.

He would never say he regretted that involvement. He liked Loki a lot, felt awful for him, whatever was going on. Thor had illuminated the situation a little for him, but there was still clearly a lot he didn't know, and if anything, Steve found himself wishing fervently that there was something he could do, really do, to help the younger man out.

Thor's obvious distress now had Steve thinking terrible thoughts. That, along with how he and Thor had found Loki not minutes before, on the floor of the bathroom, holding his sliced open, profusely bleeding hand.

Steve had heard about people who hurt themselves. Self-harming, he thinks it was called. But he'd never actually seen it.

He didn't know if that was what was going on with Loki. Maybe it only looked that way, but... still, it was terrifying to Steve.

He doesn't even realize how wound up and frightened he is until he hears Loki answer Thor back, and a moment later, the bathroom door swings open, the younger man walking out.

He's holding his injured hand in the other, cradling it against his chest, the white bandage now almost entirely soaked through red, his young face lined in stress and pain. He looks haggard, weak and sick, visibly trembling, his hair a tangled, ratty mess, his clothes hanging off of him like a sheet. Steve feels his heart sink at the sight of him.

He isn't sure what to do with himself as Loki strides past his brother. Next to Thor's massive, muscular frame, Loki looks even smaller. Looks even more wasted away.

Thor turns with him, following after as Loki stumbles over to what must be his bed, falling down onto the mattress, his back hitting the wall behind him. There's thick sweat glistening on his forehead, already soaking through his shirt. He's obviously suffering.

"Loki, I need to take you to the hospital." Thor tells him, and Loki turns away, curling in on himself as he drags his knees up to his chest. He shakes his head weakly.

"... I'm fine." He insists, his voice shaking. It's plain he's anything but.

"It's not a request Loki." Thor says flatly. "Come on. Get up. I'm taking you to the ER. You need to get that looked at, probably stitched up."

"I don't need to go to the ER Thor. Leave me alone. Just..." Loki protests again, and Thor's patience apparently runs out.

"Loki, get up." He says, and all at once, he's reaching out, grabbing his younger brother round the arm, pulling him up off the bed like it's nothing.

Loki doesn't like that at all, immediately begins struggling to break free.

"Let me GO Thor!" He hisses, tugging at Thor's grip with all his strength. It's obvious he isn't going to get anywhere, all his efforts doing nothing to loosen the larger man's grip. Still, Thor seems to know better than to use his strength to continue overpowering Loki, letting go on his own.

Loki's face twists in undiluted fury a moment and he sways for an instant where he stands.

Steve knows even before he takes the first step that he isn't going to be able to keep his feet.

He thinks to act too late, as Loki tries pushing past Thor, towards the room's exit, and his knees immediately collapse out from under him. He crumples to the floor, trying to catch himself on his hands. Steve's eyes widen as Loki half chokes on a scream as his cut open hand impacts with nearly his full weight against the ground. The pain is enough to drain Loki of whatever strength he had left, and he crumbles the rest of the way, his shoulder hitting the carpet, then his face.

It all happens in less than a handful of seconds, but it seems to stretch on forever in Steve's eyes. Thor's too, by the horror plastered across his face.

"Loki!" Steve's voice decides abruptly to come back, and an instant later, he's moving to the younger man's side, crouching down and reaching out towards him.

A violent shudder works through Loki's frame then, a heavy stretch of silence, before, horribly, the air splits with a thick and broken sob, and Steve realizes Loki is crying. He presses his face against the carpeted floor, like he's trying to hide, his uninjured hand coming up over his head, long, pale fingers burying into his thick hair.

"Fuck..." Loki sobs. He sounds tortured, and Steve feels his stomach drop out from under him.

"Loki, God..." He stammers, hesitating before reaching out, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder. Thor is crouched now on his brother's other side, also reaching out, emulating Steve's gesture.

"Loki, are you okay?" He asks, his own voice shaking. "Jesus, I didn't mean..."

"Please, just..." Loki cries, his voice muffled against the carpet. "I'm a-alright. I'm alright, just..."

Another, half-swallowed sob escapes past his lips, and he shakes his head.

"Give me a minute." He manages to get out, strained and thin.

Steve swallows thickly, keeping his hand on Loki's shoulder a moment more before reluctantly pulling back.

Thor is slower to follow, but eventually he takes his hand away too.

Loki continues to lie there for long minutes, not moving, his body trembling in his vain attempt to repress his tears.

Steve finds himself torn, wanting badly to offer Loki some kind of comfort, afraid though if he does he'll only make things worse.

And so he forces himself to wait, looking over at Thor, seeing the bigger man's eyes fixed on his brother, a worried, halfway anguished expression across his face.

There are so many questions Steve finds himself wanting to ask, knowing he can't, not right now. He feels like he shouldn't even be here, like he's invading on a private moment which he knows he shouldn't be seeing, which he knows must be humiliating for Loki.

It's painful then, just sitting here, useless and ill placed, and Steve, guiltily, feels relief when Loki finally starts to calm down, his sobs lessening to soft, harsh breaths.

A few minutes longer, and the younger man begins trying to push himself up.

Both Steve and Thor move then to help, supporting him.

Loki doesn't say anything this time, doesn't protest.

His face is a mess, tear streaked, his features still thick with pain, the impression of the rugs patterns pressed into his pale skin. He's still breathing heavily, his thin chest heaving with each intake of air, and he feels so fragile beneath Steve's hands.

He and Thor are as gentle as they can be as they help Loki up to his feet, and Steve can't not notice the way the younger man's eyes won't look at either of them, or the way he nearly collapses again before he and Thor steady him, holding him under the pits of his arms.

"Are you alright?" Thor asks quietly.

Loki nods, keeping his face turned down.

"Will you let me take you to the hospital?" Thor goes on, and again, Loki nods.

"... I'm sorry." He says softly. "I don't... I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong Loki." Steve says to him, feeling his heart sink.

"You're okay Loki." Thor reaffirms. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to force you. I just get scared."

"Nobody here wants to hurt you Loki." Steve adds when the younger man doesn't respond. "Please don't feel bad."

Still Loki doesn't reply, and Steve looks away, feeling helpless.

"Come on Loki, lets get your shoes on." Thor tells him softly, moving Loki back to the bed, guiding him to sit down on it.

Steve stands back, half watching, half looking away as Thor slips Loki's sneakers on, tying the laces for him even, while Loki sits passive and unresponsive, staring blankly at his lap.

Steve would never call himself any kind of expert, but anybody could see Loki was suffering from some kind of deep depression. And the way Thor was handling him, the way Loki was lettinghimself be handled, like a little kid...

There's an awful kind of submissiveness to it. The kind, Steve thinks, that gets beaten into somebody.

It's painful to watch, and again Steve feels like he's intruding, like he shouldn't be here, seeing this.

And Steve thinks then of what Thor had told him, about Loki having been in a relationship, about whoever the guy was actually holding Loki captive for a year. Steve had been horrified by that, hadn't been able to even imagine how something like that could happen, what that would even be like. It was clear it has been an abusive situation, given the terrible bruising even still evident on Loki's face, Steve imagined also his body. He didn't want to think about what else might have gone on. What could have led to Loki being... like he is now.

He can guess though, and it's leaving a sick, awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, thinking of it.

He remembers Loki in high school. He'd just been a little kid back then, shy, nerdy, no real friends. The other students had picked on him regularly, and that was the sort of thing that was supposed to stop once you got out of that kind of artificial environment. Steve doesn't know what sort of life Loki had led since those days, how he'd changed, really. But whatever had made him vulnerable as a kid, it seemed like maybe it was still the same for him, and this guy he'd been with, whoever he was, had preyed on that.

With that thought, Steve's heartbreak turns abruptly to anger. Almost overwhelming fury. How could somebody do that, he wonders. Why would somebody want to hurt someone weaker than them?

There was one thing in the world Steve really hated, and that was bullies.

He's so occupied with thoughts of grief and rage, he doesn't even realize that Thor and Loki have gotten up, Thor holding onto Loki's arm as they start from the room.

"Did, uh... did you want me to leave, or...?" He asks awkwardly, following after them.

Thor glances back at him, even as Loki seems not to hear him at all.

"You can go if you want Steve. Or you can come along." The older man replies.

Steve hesitates a moment.

He wants to go with them. He wants to make sure Loki is okay.

"I'd like to uh... I'd like to go with you guys. If that's okay with Loki?"

He looks to the younger man, hoping for some kind of confirmation, but again, Loki seems like he hasn't even heard him, just standing there silently, waiting for Thor to start walking again.

"Loki, is it okay if Steve comes along?" Thor asks him directly.

Several seconds pass without response, and then, slowly, Loki gives a weak nod, still saying nothing.

Thor looks back at Steve, giving him a brittle smile.

Steve nods back, keeping his distance then as he follows the two brothers out.

/

The ER is pretty quiet when they get there, and Steve feels relieved at it, for some reason. He has the feeling that an overcrowded atmosphere would wreak havoc on Loki just now.

Steve has to stay in the waiting room when they finally call Loki back to have his hand looked at, Thor going with him.

It's an anxious and uncomfortable half an hour, Steve growing restless and wishing he could know how things were going back there. Loki would be alright. It was just a sliced open hand. An easy fix. Still, it wasn't really Loki's hand Steve found himself worried about.

He can't help the relief he felt then when he finally sees Thor again, Loki's brother speaking briefly with the attendant at the front desk, before turning towards Steve and making his way over.

Steve stands to meet him.

"How is he?" He asks, unable to keep the concern out of his voice.

Thor nods, dropping heavily down into the chair beside him, looking somewhat haggard.

"He's alright." He answers wearily. "The cut was pretty deep though. He needed about twenty stitches, and the doctor said it's likely going to leave a scar."

"Damn," Steve breathes, his heart sinking a little at the news.

Thor shrugs, staring down at his big hands.

"Loki's got a few of those at this point." He says, and there's so much resignation in Thor's voice at that moment, mixed with a kind of despair.

Steve feels his stomach twist uncomfortably, the thought again passing through his mind about self-harming, his suspicions that that's always been a problem for Loki.

He shouldn't ask. It's none of his business. But the words seem to pour out of his mouth before he can stop them.

"He's hurt himself... before?" He asks, his voice thin and weak sounding to his own ears.

He sees Thor stiffen slightly beside him, before his shoulder's seem to sag in that same, resigned attitude.

He glances at Steve for a moment before looking away again, shaking his head.

"Loki was always troubled as a kid, ya know?" He starts suddenly, his voice quiet. "I say as a kid, but that's what he still basically is. I can't... Christ, he's only nineteen years old and he's... he's been through so much hell in his life already. It isn't just this most recent thing either. It's... a lot of people have hurt him. Been cruel to him..."

Thor trails off then, and Steve waits, not wanting to interrupt.

"I want to protect him but I feel like I can't. Like I've failed him completely."

"... It's hard to protect people." Steve finally says after a long moment. "The people you care about especially. You feel like you should always be there for them, should always do the right thing, but... if you stifle them too much, it can have the opposite result too. You can't blame yourself for what other people have done to him Thor. You didn't do those things."

"No," Thor shakes his head again. "but I should have stopped them from doing it. I could have stopped it and I didn't..."

Steve frowns.

"I'm guessing though Loki isn't the type to just openly talk about what's going on with him all the time?" He says, and Thor looks at him, his face pained.

"... No, he isn't. He's always been incredibly private."

Steve nods, not surprised at all.

"It's hard to help someone when they won't even let you know that something's wrong. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself man."

Thor half chokes on what sounds like a strangled laugh, and suddenly his eyes are filled with tears, and he's wiping clumsily at them.

"But I've always known there was something wrong." He says in a shaking voice. "That's just it. I've always known he was in pain, but I just... I didn't know how to help him and so most of the time I just... I just ignored it completely. Tried to pretend there wasn't any problem at all. And Loki always seemed so capable to me anyway. He was always so mature, so smart, I thought... I convinced myself that he would be okay. That he could take care of himself."

"... Well it seems like he could." Steve answers finally, feeling his own throat going tight. "It's easy to think that with someone as sharp as your brother."

Thor sniffles, still wiping at his eyes.

"You're kind to say that Steve." He says feebly.

"It's just an honest answer." Steve goes on. "You're doing the best you can Thor."

A long few seconds of silence falls between them then, Steve fidgeting, looking around the room.

"He should be out soon." He hears Thor say finally. "They were just finishing up the stitches when I left."

Steve nods, wondering if he should head off once Loki's discharged, or if he should stick around.

"He likes you. I mean..." Thor starts suddenly, somewhat awkwardly. "Loki, he likes you a lot. That... that's unusual. You know, he doesn't trust very easily. He's always had high standards..."

Thor smiles tightly at him, and Steve feels his face burning slightly.

"Well I, uh, I don't know if I've earned the right or anything." He starts, somewhat embarrassed. "I just have an idea that you should treat people with decency."

Thor keeps looking at him for long seconds then, as if studying him, and Steve struggles not to fidget and look away.

"... You'd be surprised by how few people think the same as you." He at last says, his voice thick with melancholy and what sounds like experience. "Loki's only ever seriously dated one or two guys before. You know? He's only ever trusted a few people, and all of them have hurt him in some way. This last person..." Thor voice trails off, his eyes growing distant. There's a sudden, frightening fury in them, Steve notices, and he feels abruptly uneasy.

"I'll kill him." Thor says, his voice almost a whisper. "If I ever find him, if I ever see him again, I swear, I'll kill him."

Steve swallows, unsettled.

"Do you... do you know where he is? I mean, have you talked to the police yet or anything, about... about what happened to Loki?"

Thor shakes his head harshly, not looking at Steve anymore, staring ahead at seemingly nothing.

"Out Father wants to. He wants Loki to go the to police and tell them what happened, but..." again he shakes his head. "Loki doesn't. He's scared, I guess. And nobody wants to force him..." again he trails off, frustrated and lost.

"So he... he's still out there?" Steve presses, horrified.

Thor nods jerkily, his hands clenching to fists on his knees.

"Yes." He says stiffly. "The son of a bitch, he's... he's somewhere out there. Loki told me he barely managed to get away from him. He... he fought his way out." And now Thor's voice takes on a sort of awed quality. "My brother fought his way out, against a man that's my size. He's so brave and he doesn't... he doesn't even know it. Doesn't see that about himself. The fact he held on for so long when..."

And the tears are back in his eyes, welling thick and fast, pouring down his face, and if Steve had any doubt before about what was done to Loki at this lunatic's hands, he doesn't anymore. He feels sick with that realization.

He reaches out carefully, putting a gentle hand on the older man's shoulder and squeezing.

"It'll... it'll be alright Thor. It'll be alright for him." He tries, the words sounding weak and empty even to his own ears. "You said it yourself. Loki's so brave, and stronger than he probably even knows. He'll be okay."

"... I wish I could believe that." Thor finally manages after a moment, his voice thick. "I want it to be true."

"It is. It... it will be." Steve tries to reassure.

He struggles a moment, trying to come up with something else to say, when the automatic sliding doors leading to the back come open, and they see Loki come out, walking stiffly, his legs seeming shaky underneath him. He'd got his newly stitched up hand held against his chest, the black thread standing out visibly and starkly against his pale, white skin. He looks like an exhausted mess, heavy, dark circles underneath his eyes, his shirt stained with blood from earlier, his hair disheveled.

Thor stands immediately, going to him, and Steve stands also, trailing behind.

"How are you?" Thor asks him, putting a protective arm round his shoulders.

Loki shrugs weakly, keeping his face turned down.

"Alright." He mumbles, almost too softly to hear. "I just wanna go home."

"Okay. That's okay." Thor says. "I'm just gonna take care of payment. It should only be a minute."

Loki nods silently.

"Steve, um," Thor looks to him. "will you take Loki and sit with him while I take care of this?"

"Sure, of course." Steve answers, moving closer.

"Thanks." Thor says, before turning and making his way over to the front desk.

Steve stands awkwardly a moment, unsure exactly of what to do with his hands. He's afraid to touch Loki, afraid of doing the wrong thing, of scaring him.

But the younger man looks incredibly shaky right now too, like he's barely managing to stay standing on his own, and that's enough to push Steve past his own worries, simply reaching out and taking gentle hold of Loki by the arm.

"Hey, how about we go sit down?" He says.

Finally, Loki looks up at him, his vividly green eyes almost shocking against his gaunt face, his lips almost bloodless. He's looking at Steve like he's realizing for the first time that he's actually there.

Loki blinks, swallowing visibly.

"You're still here?" He says, voice rough as he looks. "I thought..." and he trails off, eyes suddenly going distant.

"Hey, it's okay." Steve says, strengthening his grip. "Lets just... let's get you sat down over here. Come on."

Loki lets himself be pulled with no resistance, and Steve makes sure he's safely seated before letting him go, sitting down beside him.

Neither of them says anything for several seconds, Steve trying to think of something to say, worried again about doing the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry." He's jarred from his struggle by the sound of Loki's voice, and he glances over, seeing him hunched over in his seat, still cradling his hand against his chest. "This isn't... I didn't want things to be this way and you... you must think I'm such a freak. I'm sorry you were dragged into this at all."

Steve starts, then stops, taken aback by Loki's words, for a moment his own mind going blank with what to say.

"No, that's..." his mouth finally starts working after what seems forever, his words coming out stilted and slow. "God, that's not it. Loki, you aren't a... a freak. You don't have to be sorry."

Loki only turns his face away at that, shaking his head.

"Every time you've seen me these last two times, I've had a fucking melt down right in front of you. I couldn't even blame you if you never wanted to see me again." He says, his voice brittle and low.

Steve shakes his head, not fully grasping what it is Loki is even saying.

"But I do, I... Loki, I'd love to see you again. To... to keep seeing you, if you... if you wanted to keep seeing me, I mean."

That seems to startled the younger man, Loki looking back at him with a genuinely shocked expression.

"Why?" He blurts out suddenly then.

Steve frowns, not understanding.

"Why...?" He starts, confused.

"Why would you want to see me again? After... after everything? I'm a fucking basket case."

"Loki," Steve says, dismayed. "why wouldn't I want to see you again? Look I... I know you've been through some really bad stuff and I... I'm not going to press you to tell me what that all is. You can tell me if and when you're ready. If you want to. And I'll... I'll be there for you if you do. But whatever happened to you, whatever you're going through... that isn't who you are. Geeze, you'd... you'd be a catch for anyone, I think. You're really good looking, really smart, you're... you're funny, genuinely funny, which hardly anyone is. I like hanging out with you. When we... when we went out the other day, that was the most fun I've had in a long, long time. I'm serious." Steve adds when he sees the incredulous look across Loki's face. "I mean, I'll be honest, you really scared me when you had your panic attack, but that... that doesn't erase what a good time we had before that, or how much I like being around you."

Loki is staring back at him with a gaze so intense that it's a struggle for Steve not to look away.

"... You really mean that." Loki finally breathes, and its more a statement than a question.

"I do." Steve answers anyway. "I... I really like you Loki. I like you a lot."

Loki shakes his head like he doesn't understand, like he can't believe it.

He turns away for a moment, and Steve feels his heart sink, thinking abruptly that he must have done something wrong, said something wrong to screw this all up.

But then, suddenly, Loki turns back towards him, and without warning, he leans over the arm of his chair, pressing his lips to Steve's, kissing him hard. It only last a few seconds, but it seems to go on forever, before Loki finally falls back into his own seat, looking away. His pale skin is almost pink now with embarrassment, his arms wrapping around his torso.

"I'm sorry." He mutters under his breath. "I shouldn't have done that."

Steve blinks, still reeling from the shock of it. His lips tingle and feel warm where Loki had kissed him, that warmth seeping slowly down into the pit of his stomach.

"No, I..." he finally manages, his own voice soft. "that's okay. I liked it."

Loki swallows visibly, glancing quickly at him before again looking away.

"... I've wanted to do that since I was twelve." He says just as softly, his face turning even redder.

Steve can't help but smile then, lifting a hand and brushing it back through his hair.

"You, uh, you can do it again if... if you like." He stammers out, vaguely embarrassed himself.

Loki seems to hesitate, looking up towards where his brother is, still working out payment with the receptionist at the front desk, like he's checking to make sure they aren't being watched.

And then, just as suddenly as the first time, he turns again towards Steve, leaning over the arm of the chair and kissing him, lifting his hands, cupping Steve's face. It's even more impassioned this time, seems to last even longer, and Steve finds himself kissing back now, finds himself feeling a kind of loss when Loki as last pulls away.

Again the younger man seems embarrassed, looking away, glancing quickly once more at his older brother to make sure they haven't been seen before lowering his eyes to his lap.

"That was... great." Steve breathes quietly, and suddenly he can't stop grinning, even when Loki looks back at him, a look of almost hope mixed with something like fear in his eyes.

He keeps looking back at Steve for long seconds, and Steve looks back, an odd, almost bubbly feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach. He feels happy all of a sudden, he realizes. Feels excited.

When he sees Loki smile back, soft and unsure as it is, it's something like flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, many thanks to all my readers! If you have a chance, leave a comment!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to all my readers and everyone who left me a review! You guys are so awesome and your support means more to me than I can ever say! Here's another chapter as my thanks, and I hope you guys enjoy it. Again, please leave a comment if you have a chance!

"I'll bet you ten tickets I can make the hundred every time." Loki says, grinning at Steve as he tosses the skee ball up and down in his palm.

Steve smiles back, shaking his head.

"That I'd have to see. I've never been any good at this game." He admits, laughing. "More likely to go off the ramp completely than actually make a hole."

"Well then stand back and be amazed darling, because you are looking at the king of skee ball. I used to win all of Thor's allowance money off of him with this."

Again, Steve laughs, unable to help it. Loki's enthusiasm, he's learned over these past few weeks, if nothing short of infectious.

"Well alright hotshot, lets see these mad skills of yours."

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." Loki goes on, before he steps up to the games ramp.

Steve isn't the least bit surprised when Loki actually starts doing exactly as he claimed he could, the heavy wooden balls hitting the center hole every time, disappearing into them smooth and easy.

It had been the same on the grabbing machine. Steve had never seen anyone do as good on that thing as Loki could. The proof being in the armful of stuffed animals Steve currently found himself walking around with. Loki just never missed.

"It's all about angles." He'd told Steve like it was no big deal. "You just have to work out the placement and you can't lose."

Well, whatever Loki was figuring out in his mind, it had worked. It was probably the same with this game he was playing now. Loki was so good at it, it was like he was applying some mathematical precision. Steve wouldn't even be surprised if that was the case, if Loki was measuring distance and space and all sorts of other factors, distilling it down to an exact formula.

The more time he spent around the younger man, the more he was discovering just how brilliant Loki actually was. Not just smart. He was an actual genius. Not like how you might just glibly throw that word around to describe someone. With Loki it was true. Thor had told him about how his brother had taken an IQ test when he was nine years old, that he'd scored around 190 on the thing.

Loki saw things Steve wasn't even aware of. That he could never see himself. It was both awe inspiring and intimidating. Steve could admit to himself that, at times, he wondered what it was Loki even saw in him, when he was so average in comparison.

But if Loki thought so, he never once showed it. It was almost every day for the past two and a half weeks that Loki had called him up or texted him, wanting to know if they could get together.

Steve had been more than happy to oblige, the only times he couldn't being when he'd had to work overtime at his jobs, and those times Loki had understood.

Most of the days they'd spent together had been at Loki's home. His parent's and brother were still apparently nervous about letting him go out on his own, even with Steve there to accompany him, and it had just been simpler and easier to placate them. Steve didn't mind at all. It was as much of a good time, just hanging out with Loki in his bedroom as it would be going somewhere fancy. Being with Loki was what counted.

Loki, though, had started to grow antsy, and so that was how they'd ended up here today, at the shopping center, milling around in the arcade. He'd practically had to beg his parents to let him go, something which Loki had been deeply embarrassed about, given he was, technically, an adult, and both his mother and father had grilled Steve and made him swear himself that he wouldn't let Loki out of his sight for a minute, which of course Steve had agreed to.

Loki's and Thor's parent's liked him, he thinks. At least, he hopes so. They seemed to approve of him anyway. Though Steve would be the first to admit that the both of them had scared him more than a little, especially Loki's dad, who was nearly as big as Thor and about a hundred times more intimidating. The both of them had done nothing less than interrogate Steve about his intentions towards their son, wanting to know everything about him, who he was, where he came from, what kind of person he was.

Steve couldn't blame them. They were only trying to protect Loki.

It had taken about a week, but they finally seemed convinced that Steve had no intention of hurting Loki in any way, and ever since they'd started going together, Loki had slowly been pulling himself out of the hole he'd fallen into, had been growing happier and healthier, it seemed. He'd been smiling more, laughing more. He'd even started putting a little weight back on, though he remained painfully thin still. It had been enough though to convince his parent's and Thor both that maybe Steve was good for him.

It helped, Steve supposes, that they hadn't done anything yet beyond kissing and holding hands. They'd spent most of their time together so far just talking, watching movies, playing board games.

Steve wasn't about to push for anything more than that. Just like he hadn't pushed Loki yet to tell him what had happened to him. That was Loki's choice to make, whether he wanted to tell him or not, and it was going to be Loki's choice too, when he wanted to take their relationship further. If he wanted to.

Steve hoped that he did.

They'd been in the arcade for almost an hour now, trying all the various games and machines.

As good as Loki was at skee ball and the grabbing machine, he was equally bad at video games. Even Steve was better than him, and that was saying something, since Steve had never been any good at the things. Tony and Clint and the whole gang had used to make a total fool of him when they'd been younger. But Loki was completely hopeless. Steve had even tried losing to him a couple times, beginning to feel bad about the whole thing, and even then, Loki had lost.

Steve had felt awful, not knowing what to say.

And then Loki had laughed, had told him it was alright, saying he'd always been awful at the things, that he'd always just go with Thor to the arcade to watch him play and brag to the other kids about how good his big brother was at Mortal Kombat or Killer Instinct or whatever other games were hot at the time. Said his skill hadn't improved any with all the home consoles and video game titles.

"Thor's a whiz at 'em." Loki had gone on, smiling ruefully. "I've just never been coordinated enough with my hands or something. I just smash the buttons and hope something happens."

"That's pretty much what I do too." Steve had laughed with him, feeling relieved that Loki wasn't upset about it.

"Well, you're better at it than I am. But I guess us button mashers have to stick together." Loki had said.

Not the case with the skee ball. Loki's on the last ball, and just like he'd said, he's managed to get all of them into the center hole. Tickets were absolutely pouring out of the dispenser.

"Jeez, you're gonna be able to buy the biggest prize at the counter with all those." Steve breathes, half laughing.

"Certainly with all those tickets you won at the basketball thing." Loki agrees, rolling the last ball, and sure enough, it lands smack dab in the center, the machine spitting out another endless stream of tickets.

"I'm just glad I was good at something in this place." Steve answers, bending down to tear the tickets loose, beginning to fold them up.

Loki shrugs, moving to help him, to Steve's relief. Between holding the stuffed toys from the grabber, and trying to collect the tickets, he was sure he was going to drop something.

"Arcades are kind of obsolete now, unfortunately." Loki starts thoughtfully. "Everybody's got their Playstation's and X-box's. Places like these just can't compete anymore. But you don't get the same kind of competitive excitement playing at home that you used to coming here."

"That's true." Steve nods, thinking about it. "It's kind of sad, really."

"Yeah, I suppose." Loki goes on, stuffing the tickets into a plastic bag which he'd pulled from somewhere. "That's just the way things are in the world. Technology changes, things only last so long. Listen, why don't you take these up to the prize counter and get something? I've just got to run to the bathroom real quick, and then maybe we can go get something to eat?"

Steve hesitates, even as Loki hands him the bag.

"Uh... are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" He starts, his stomach twisting uncomfortably, remembering what he'd promised Loki's parents.

"I'll be alright." Loki says, looking, for an instant, annoyed. "I'll only be a minute."

"But, I mean, I told your parent's..." Steve starts, unable to help the feeling of dread from building.

"Steve," Loki cuts him off, looking at him hard. "don't. I'm an adult. You don't need to take me to the bathroom." He stops for a moment, regarding Steve closely. "Besides," he begins again, his voice softer. "you don't need to watch me pee. I'd like to keep some of the mystery going, at least for a while." He smiles faintly at Steve, obviously trying to put him at ease.

It isn't really working.

But Steve doesn't want to push either. It's a fine line, he knows, between being protective and smothering somebody. Bucky had used to smother him when he'd been a kid, when he'd been so shrimpy and unable to defend himself. There were moments when Steve had started to feel resentful towards his best friend because of it, and he didn't want Loki to feel that way towards him. He didn't want Loki to think he didn't respect him.

He struggles for a moment, trying to decide what to do, before finally he relents, nodding towards Loki.

"Okay." He says. "I'll wait for you at the counter."

Loki grins at him, clearly relieved, and Steve can only pray he's made the right choice.

"I'll be back in a couple minutes." Loki tells him. "Don't worry."

/

It's hard. Harder than it should be, Loki thinks, as he makes his way through the crowded arcade, towards the bathrooms. He can feel his heart racing almost sickeningly against his ribcage, the tips of his fingers tingly and numb from fear.

Nothing is going to happen, he keeps telling himself, over and over.

He has to do this. He has to prove to himself that he can. That what happened to him isn't... isn't an everyday thing. That not everyone is out to get him.

He's been using Steve as a crutch during this whole outing. Clinging to him, never moving more than a few feet away. He hopes Steve hasn't noticed, hasn't gotten annoyed with him for being so much in his space. It's just... he feels safe around Steve, in a way... in a way he hasn't felt safe around anyone in a long time, except Thor.

Steve is such a big, strong guy, and he's so kind. Thoughtful and caring and, despite his size and strength, so gentle. He never holds Loki too hard, the way... the way Thanos had. Never hurts him...

Maybe he's being foolish, to trust Steve so much, when he's only really just started to get to know him. But he can't really help it either. He feels good around Steve. Being with him these last few weeks has... it's helped him to forget a little about everything else. About what happened. Not completely. Loki doesn't think he'll ever be able to completely forget it. But... around Steve, it's a little easier to deal with. Today even, this being Loki's first real time out in public since his and Steve's first, disastrous get together, was turning out to be a lot of fun. They'd done a little shopping, picking up some books and blu-rays at the book store, before they'd headed to the arcade, where they've been since. It felt doable with Steve. With him there, Loki didn't feel like he had to keep checking over his shoulder every minute.

Still, he knows he can't get like that, can't start to depend fully on Steve. He's got to be able to do things on his own. He won't be paralyzed by the world. He won't let... won't let Thanos take that from him.

He'd been so tempted to ask Steve to come with him to the bathroom when he'd offered, knowing his new boyfriend (and saying that still makes a grin plaster itself across Loki's face, still seems to him so unbelievable) would agree without complaint. And that's where Loki had had to push past his own insecurities and fears. He wasn't a child. He wasn't going to start acting like one.

Still, each person that accidentally bumps into him on the way to the stalls, every person that makes eye contact with him, whether intentionally or accidentally, is like an awful shock through his system, and by the time Loki makes it into the bathroom, he feels like there's a nearly suffocating weight pressing down on his chest, the room seeming to spin.

He stumbles to one of the stalls then and closes the door behind him, falling back against it a moment later and nearly gasping out in relief. He's shaking, he realizes, a slight sweat having broken out along his face.

"God," he breathes, trying to force himself to calm down. "how long is it going to be like this?"

It wasn't just the fact Thanos was still out there, somewhere. Knowing that was bad enough. It was... everyone. Everyone looked sinister to him now. Everyone looked like they had bad intentions. It was ridiculous, and paranoid. Loki knew that. But it didn't seem to matter how hard he tried to apply logic to his feelings. It did little to alleviate them. That had always been true, he supposes.

He stands there a few seconds longer, trying to find his bearings again, when he quickly remembers that he'd told Steve he'd only be a few minutes.

He doesn't want Steve to worry. He's constantly fearful of looking pathetic in the older man's eyes.

He's quick then to pee, still feeling an almost overwhelming relief now that the burning pain of before is gone, before hurriedly exiting the stall and moving for the sinks, starting to wash his hands.

He nearly chokes on a harsh gasp then when he hears someone say close behind him, "Hey there..."

Loki whirls around, whatever calm he'd managed to get back to in the stall flitting instantly away.

There's a man standing there, only a few feet away, shorter than him, but broad, strong looking arms and shoulders, fully exposed by his thank top, short, blond hair and a wide face. He's looking at Loki intently, an unmistakable want in his eyes.

Loki feels abruptly faint, his stomach churning nauseatingly. Unthinkingly, he steps back, his back hitting the hard line of the sinks, and he feels his heart drop.

The man smiles at him, ugly and smug.

"I've been watchin' you." He says, nodding back over his shoulder. "Out there. You're a pretty boy."

Loki feels his mouth go dry, his heart kicking painfully fast. The numbing sensation in his hands comes roaring back a hundred times worse, and his legs feel suddenly weak.

This isn't happening. Oh Jesus, this can't be.

He hadn't even heard the man come in. Hadn't seen him. Had he been in here before? Had he followed him in?

"W... what do you want?" Loki manages to stammer out, his voice reedy and thin sounding to his own ears.

"Well ain't that obvious?" The man answers, suddenly stepping closer, and Loki feels like he's going to suffocate, his breath catching in his throat, seeming to refuse to fill his lungs. He tries stepping back again, but there's nowhere to go. He's trapped. His hands scramble behind him, gripping the edge of the sink, holding on white-knuckled. "You look like you give good service. Am I right?" The man goes on, grinning. "I bet you've got real experience being down on your hands and knees."

Loki can't stop the pained whimper which slips suddenly from his throat, shame and humiliation burning at his face even as he feels his eyes beginning to sting, awful, terror filled memories exploding unwanted back to the forefront of his mind.

"Mm-my boyfriend's ww... waiting for me." He stutters somehow, the attempt to scare the man off sounding weak and pitiful.

The man's grin only widens at that as if in confirmation.

"Yeah, I saw that bozo. Real beefcake type. Come on baby, you can do better than that."

The man steps forward again, swallowing up whatever small space had been left between them. He's very nearly pressed up against Loki now, crowding him further back against the sinks. The world spins, titling dangerously, a loud, horrible buzzing suddenly filling Loki's ears.

The man reaches up, his hot, sweaty hand pressing against the side of Loki's face, and Loki can't help it as a harsh sob escapes past his lips, followed by another, and he's crying helplessly, brokenly.

This is happening again. He can't... oh God, he can't do this. He can't. Please, please...

"Hey!" Someone says harshly, and a moment later, Loki feels the man's hand slip from his face, feels the press of his heavy body move away. "Get the hell off of him!"

There's the loud sound of flesh hitting flesh, and the dull thud of something hitting the tiled floor, but Loki can't look. Can't open his eyes. He's frozen where he stands, petrified and sick and he can't stop crying.

"Loki," he hears. "Loki, hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay."

Loki shakes his head.

No, it isn't. It isn't okay. He's... he's going to be...

"Loki," and suddenly there are hands on him again, different hands, gentle and kind, and he... he recognizes the voice. He knows the voice. "Loki look at me."

He opens his eyes, and it's Steve. Steve is standing there, looking back at him with genuine, worried eyes.

The man... whoever he was, is lying unconscious on the ground.

At last, Loki's legs give out, and he crumples.

Steve catches him, sinking down to the floor with him.

Loki clings to him, his hands finding Steve's shirt, fingers curling desperately into the material, and oh God, he knows he's making a fool of himself, but he can't stop it, he can't stop it, pressing his face to Steve's chest and sobbing helplessly.

/

It takes a long time before Loki is able to calm down.

Steve manages to get him out of the bathroom in the interval, out of the arcade and to somewhere quieter, outside the crowded shopping area, where he'd found them a bench to sit down on.

He'd just wanted to get Loki away from that guy, whoever the hell he was.

He supposes he can only thank God for his instincts.

When just a few minutes had passed with him waiting by the prize counter, and Loki still hadn't come back, Steve had gotten an inexplicably bad feeling. He'd always been one of those people that chose never to ignore his instincts, and he hadn't thought twice about taking off for the bathroom to check on his boyfriend.

Still, he'd frozen for a moment in shock when he'd walked in and seen what was happening.

The guy had been short and squat, thickly built and strong looking, muscular arms exposed through his tank top, covered in tattoos which, now that Steve thought about it, looked like what might have been gang symbols, head shaved and with all kinds of piercings through his face and ears.

Loki had looked absolutely terrified, backed up against the bathroom sinks, his skin deathly pale, visibly shaking. He'd been paralyzed, it seemed, unable to move, to speak or cry out for help. And then the man had reached out, putting his hand on Loki's face.

That's all it had taken to snap Steve out of his own inaction, and he's sprung forward, shouting out to the guy and grabbing hold of him, tearing him away. He hadn't even thought through it, pure adrenaline coursing through him as he'd laid his fist into the man's face, knocking him cold in one punch.

Steve was strong. He'd been strong since hitting a late growth spurt when he'd been about sixteen years old, when he'd suddenly found himself to be a huge man, six feet plus, broad shouldered and powerful. It had been as much a shock to him as everyone around him, since he'd spent all of his childhood as not only scrawny and weak, but sickly too, constantly battling illness, stricken with so many bouts of pneumonia that it was nothing short of a miracle that he'd survived to the age he was, and plagued by constant asthma attacks. Something he hadn't failed to notice hindered Loki, something he'd instantly been able to sympathize with in the younger man. Unlike him, though, Loki clearly hadn't grown out of it, as Loki clearly hadn't grown out of a generally more fragile constitution. The younger man reminded Steve so much of himself when he'd been a kid, that he couldn't help the protectiveness he felt around him.

As Steve had had Bucky to protect him, Steve now wanted to return that to Loki.

It had been a little too close to home for Steve, seeing Loki cornered in the bathroom, a bigger, stronger man ready to do God only knew what to him. Steve had been through plenty of that in his life also, and his rage had been quick to fruition.

And after everything, after what Steve knew Loki had been through, few details as he still had, he wasn't about to let anything happen again. Not if he could help it.

Sitting here with Loki now, his arm wrapped round his shoulders, holding the younger man tight against his side, as he thinks more on the assault, it suddenly seems to Steve beyond coincidental. That this would happen again, that Loki would be attacked like this, in such a public place too...

"Are you okay?" Steve asks quietly, rubbing his hand up and down Loki's arm.

Loki nods weakly. He'd stopped crying finally, though Steve had had to shield Loki's face against his chest as they'd been making their way out of the mall. He hadn't wanted Loki to see all the stares people had been giving them.

"I'm sorry." Loki mutters, voice rough and so quiet Steve almost doesn't hear.

"Don't." Steve tells him gently. "Don't do that. You didn't do anything."

Loki turns his face further against Steve's shoulder, a shudder working through his frame.

"I embarrassed you." He says, and he sounds so miserable, Steve feels his own eyes sting sharply in sympathy. "All those people were looking..."

Steve's heart sinks.

"None of that matters." He says firmly, reaching over with his other arm, pulling Loki into a hug. "I don't care what any of them think."

Loki lets out a trembling sigh, and then again.

"... I was so scared, I couldn't... I couldn't defend myself against him. I couldn't even protect myself, I'm so pathetic..."

"You aren't. Loki, you aren't." Steve insists. "That man is a coward, waiting until he had you alone to try and... to try and attack you."

Loki says nothing to that, only letting his head fall against Steve's shoulder, his eyes closing. Tears wash silently down his face.

"It's always going to be like this." He says softly after a long moment. Steve turns, looking down at him, seeing Loki swallowing thickly. "As long as he's... he's out there, I'm never going to... and even if he w-went to jail, I'd still... I'd still be like this. I'd still be afraid of everybody. I'd still be just as helpless. I can't... I can't expect everyone else to always be there to protect me."

Loki reaches up, wiping at his eyes.

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, thinking again of his suspicions.

He hasn't dared yet to bring up what happened to Loki with him. He hasn't wanted to pressure his boyfriend at all. But if what he was thinking was right, then for Loki's sake, he might not have a choice.

"Loki, you..." he starts, then stops, hesitating.

Loki turns, looking up at him briefly before again turning away.

"Do you want to... talk about what happened? I mean, there's what your brother said, and I... I know you weren't happy about that and that you aren't comfortable. I don't want to pressure you into anything, it's just... that man that attacked you, I can't help the feeling that it wasn't... wasn't random."

He feels Loki stiffen underneath his arms then, his body winding tight as a coiled spring, his breath audibly hitching.

"You think..." Loki starts after a long pause, his voice suddenly reedy and thin. "you think it had s-something to do with Thanos...?"

"I don't know." Steve answers quickly, hating that he's seemed to upset Loki even more. "I just seemed weird to me."

Loki is silent again for nearly a full minutes, unmoving in Steve's arms.

"... He would." He finally breathes, voice hardly more than a whisper now. He sounds distant, almost dazed. "He... he was going to kill me. He was keeping me alive, but he was... he would have killed me sooner or later. He hated me so much, I..."

His voice cuts off, and he looks down, his hands clenching to white-knuckled fists in his lap, his body beginning to tremble more pronouncedly.

"He's going to come after me again." He finally finishes, voice shaking, thick with held back tears. "I know he is. I've... I've known it since I managed to get away, I just didn't... didn't want to think about it..."

Steve wraps his arms tighter around Loki, hoping somehow it makes him feel safer, knowing deep down it probably doesn't.

"I won't let him Loki. Neither will your family." He tries to reassure.

Loki shakes his head.

"You don't understand though. Thanos is more dangerous than I can tell you. And he's... he's smart. Smarter than I am and... and cruel. What he did, I..."

Loki loses the battle against his tears then, and he turns away, covering his eyes with his hand.

Steve leans in, pressing a kiss to Loki's temple, feeling helpless and lost. Loki is in so much pain still. Steve wants to tell him he can talk to him, that he can trust him with whatever it is.

"It's okay." Is all he manages. "Loki, it's okay."

"I can't..." Loki stammers out, voice rough with tears. "I can't stop th-thinking... thinking about everything..."

Steve swallows. He needs to be careful here.

"Thinking about what Loki?" He asks quietly, trying his best to sound supportive, reassuring.

Again, Loki shakes his head, keeping his eyes hidden.

"... What he did. Wh-what he did to me." Loki sobs. "I ff-feel disgusting. I feel like it's mm-my fault. Like there's something really w-wrong with me now."

Steve finally loses the battle against his own tears, his eyes welling up. He doesn't bother trying to stop them from falling.

"It's not your fault Loki. Whatever he did to you. It has nothing to do with you." He says, his chest feeling tight, like there's a heavy weight pressing down on it.

"But I l-let him." Loki goes on brokenly. "Ya know? I ff-feel like I let him. He treated me l-like some piece of property b-before everything, and I should have known, I should have seen, and I didn't, and then... I can't stop hearing his voice in my head, telling me... t-telling me all these things and..."

"Oh Loki..." Steve breathes out, his heart crumbling. He rubs his palm firmly up and down the younger man's back.

"I ww-wake up all the time and I can feel his hands... I can feel his hands still on me. It feels like he's holding me d-down again and... touching... touching me everywhere and I want him to stop, but I'm too afraid to tell him no anymore, and he just keeps... and I can't stop him because I'm just so fucking worthless..."

He breaks off, his voice dissolving into wracking sobs.

Steve doesn't know what to do. Doesn't know what he can say at all to help. Whatever little hope he'd held out before against what he already deep down knew, that this Thanos had rapped Loki, had probably rapped him repeatedly and violently, shatters in that instant, with Loki's words and his naked agony. He's never seen a person suffer like this.

He wraps his arms around his boyfriend tighter still, and pulls him against him, his embrace nearly crushing in its strength.

Loki crumples against him, turning his face against Steve's chest and weeping into it like a child, his hands reaching, burying in the material of Steve's shirt, holding on as if his life depended upon it.

"You're okay." Steve says, rocking Loki gently. "You're okay. You're okay. It's okay to cry. It's okay."

He doesn't make Loki talk anymore after that. Only holds onto him, praying, hoping desperately that just being there for Loki is, at this moment, somehow enough.


	21. Chapter 21

"Loki," Dr. Banner smiles up at him, genuine and warm. "it's good to see you again."

Loki forces a smile onto his own face, feeling it strain, struggling not to stiffen as the therapist steps forward and embraces him in a tight hug.

Dr. Banner may be a good five or six inches shorter than him, but anyone would be a fool not to acknowledge the strength evident in his compact frame. He'd been a wrestler and a weight lifter during his days at university, Loki knew, and that was clear in the rib crushing hugs he gave.

Loki had never been very comfortable around strong men. Ironic, he knew, since his own brother and father were strong men, and now Steve, and... and Thanos.

Fearful as he'd always been of being overpowered, Loki had a bizarre and, in his mind, inexplicable attraction to people who very easily could do such to him. Maybe it was just his sick love affair with dangerous situations. Which, Loki supposes, was part of the reason he'd started seeing Dr. Banner to begin with.

He wonders still now how he'd let his mother and father talk him into going back, when the reality was, the last thing he wanted was to talk about any of... any of what he'd gone through, either recently or farther in the past.

He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to deal with it.

But Mother and Father kept pushing, and after what had happened at the shopping center, with that man, after the way he'd frozen, had felt paralyzed and completely powerless to even call for help...

Loki knew he needed to work his shit out. He was losing it. Paranoia and fear was beginning to take hold of and cripple him to a point where he just wouldn't be able to function out in the world if he kept on as he was.

Every time a shadow fell across him, every time he felt someone standing near him at his back, or there was a sudden, unexpected noise, every time someone touched him without him seeing them move to it, he nearly blacked out with the shot of adrenaline and terror which would rip through him each time.

It wasn't sustainable.

And so finally he'd agreed. He didn't know if talking to Dr. Banner would help.

It had seemed to, before. Having someone to tell his problems to, someone who actually listened and seemed able to offer actual, real advice on how to deal with it. Someone who had a medical understanding of his health issues, and how to get them under control.

Before he'd run off with Thanos, he'd been seeing Dr. Banner every week, sometimes multiple times a week, and as reluctant and belligerent as Loki had initially been at the idea of needing therapy, he'd eventually had to admit to himself that for maybe the first time ever in his life, he'd started to feel, if not good about himself, at least alright with himself. Things didn't seem so impossible, so overwhelming, after he got through talking to the psychiatrist. Things seemed almost... manageable.

After he'd moved in with Thanos, he hadn't been allowed to seeing Dr. Banner anymore.

Loki had at first told himself it was his choice. That he had made that decision. But he'd been able to acknowledge recently now that no, that hadn't ever been it. Thanos had told him he didn't "need" therapy. That had been equivalent to Thanos telling him he wasn't permitted to talk to Dr. Banner, or anyone anymore. Not while they were together.

Just like he hadn't been allowed to take any more medicine, no more anti-depressants, no more anti-anxiety pills for his panic attacks. Nothing.

Loki hadn't even realized how dependent he'd grown on those things until the first few days he'd gone without them, and he'd been hit with an attack of anxiety so bad, he'd been certain he was dying.

He remembers being almost more afraid of Thanos finding out he was struggling. Remembers doing everything he could to hide it.

He tries to push all that from his mind now as he hugs Dr. Banner awkwardly back, unable to keep his shoulders from sagging in relief when the psychiatrist finally lets him go, stepping back and looking over him.

Dr. Banner's eyes are scrutinizing and again it's a struggle for Loki not to fidget.

He knows he looks like shit. Knows he's still barely managed to gain back any weight, that his face is still lined with exhaustion and pain. Knows that he still has to move somewhat gingerly from the still healing bruises covering his body.

He doesn't know what his parents told the psychiatrist about where he's been, or what happened to him. He prays it wasn't everything, though he knows, eventually, if this is going to be at all effective, he's going to have to open up about it to Dr. Banner.

"It's been almost a year and a half, hasn't it?" Dr. Banner goes on, finally looking up to Loki's face.

If he feels any disapproval for Loki's sorry condition, he shows none of it in his expression.

Loki smiles tightly, giving a jerky, embarrassed nod.

"Well, why don't you have a seat?" Dr. Banner encourages when the silence stretches a little too long, obviously realizing Loki isn't going to elaborate any further.

Loki does as he's told, making his way over to the familiar, well cushioned armchair Dr. Banner has always used for his patients.

The whole office looks exactly as he remembers, in fact.

Loki doesn't know why that surprises him. Just that, after everything... he thought somehow, irrationally, everything would be changed.

That it isn't is both oddly comforting and depressing.

More than anything, it makes him feel like he's being left behind, while everyone else' lives have moved on without obstruction.

He tries not to let any of this show as he sits back in the oversized chair, feeling dwarfed and stupid within it.

He can't bring himself to look at Dr. Banner as he takes his own seat in the chair opposite, focusing instead on his fidgeting hands.

He feels an absurd dread suddenly as he waits for the psychiatrist to start talking.

"So, Loki..." Dr. Banner begins, and Loki swallows against his abruptly dry mouth. "how have you been? I talked with your parents a little earlier, and they say things have been a bit rough."

Loki can't keep himself from scoffing at that remark, looking aside and staring fixedly at the wall.

"That's amusing to you?" Dr. Banner picks up on it.

"A bit rough is somewhat of an understatement, I would say." Loki bites out, immediately regretting it.

"Can you elaborate on that maybe?" Dr. Banner pushes, and Loki wants to kick himself for walking so stupidly into the psychiatrist's trap.

He folds his arms, still staring at the wall, rubbing his hands up and down his skinny arms.

"I don't..." he starts, then stops. "I don't think I can..."

"You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to Loki." Dr. Banner helps him out finally. "I understand it's hard."

Loki glances at him quickly, suspicious.

"How much did my parent's tell you?" He asks, hating the way he voice trembles slightly.

"Not much." Dr. Banner answers easily. "They were vague. Though I'll be totally honest with you. They said you've just gotten out of an abusive relationship."

Loki's eyes flit away again, his face burning with humiliation. He doesn't say anything.

"You've been in a few relationships where your partner didn't treat you very well." Dr. Banner goes on softly, and Loki can't help thinking there's pity in the doctor's voice. He clenches his jaw, his fingers digging into the material of his shirt as he folds his arms tighter against his body. "Can we maybe talk about that for a moment?"

Loki wants to tell him no. Wants to tell Dr. Banner to fuck off and mind his own business. It's an effort to remind himself that the psychiatrist is only trying to help.

"I'm a fuck up, what can I say?" Loki grinds out instead, his eyes stinging as the words slip from his mouth.

"You aren't a fuck up Loki." Dr. Banner's gentle voice tells him, and Jesus Christ, the tears pressing against the backs of Loki's eyes suddenly spill over without warning. He wipes at them hastily, only more embarrassed. "You'd be shocked at how many people fall into relationships with the wrong person. People who are otherwise incredibly smart and careful in everything they do. It's no reflection on who you are."

"... Yeah, sure." Loki mutters out, wiping again at his eyes.

"Do you have some theory's on why you might be attracted to certain types of people?" The doctor goes on as if he hasn't said anything.

Loki shrugs.

"Just stupid I guess." He mumbles again.

"I don't think so Loki." Dr. Banner says. "I think you're well aware of how intelligent you actually are."

"Maybe at numbers and science and all that useless crap. When it comes to people, I'm as dumb as a rock." Loki snaps, frustrated. His throat feels tight and he swears to God, he isn't going to start sobbing. He'll kill himself if he does.

"Alright. Let's talk about this for a minute. I was looking over my notes before you arrived today for your appointment, and the last thing we were talking about before you stopped coming was your I think second to last boyfriend. Jeff Bailey was his name. Do you remember?"

Loki's eyes close, and he didn't think it was possible for him to get any more uncomfortable than he already was, but once again, Dr. Banner proves him wrong.

He didn't want to think about Jeff. Fuck, he... the last thing he needed was to think about him, and what had happened.

It was nothing compared to what Thanos had done.

That didn't make it any less awful. If anything, it only made it worse.

That he could walk out of a relationship with someone like Jeff, short lived as it had been, and straight into one with Thanos...

God, he truly was a loser.

"You said that relationship ended badly, but you never got around to explaining what that meant." Dr. Banner presses now.

"It means he smacked me around. That's what it means." Loki spits, anger and pain and humiliation erupting like a volcano inside of him. Fresh tears fill his eyes and he drags the back of his hand over them, hating himself even more.

Dr. Banner finally pauses, and Loki can hear him scribbling in that notepad of his.

He wishes he hadn't said anything at all.

"So it was physically abusive." The doctor observes.

"No, not..." Loki chokes. "not until the end. Jeff was... he hated the fact he was gay. He just finally took it out on me. He was always talking about how I was too effeminate, that I made it too obvious were were a couple of fags, as he put it."

Loki looks down, his teeth grinding together as the memory flashes through his mind.

"He didn't want to deal with the fact he was a homosexual. He was always acting butch, playing tough man sports and hanging out with his macho, homophobic friends. They didn't know he was gay. You understand?"

Dr. Banner nods.

"Yes." He answers. "I have a few patients who are closeted."

Loki shrugs, not wanting to go on suddenly.

"And did you agree with Jeff?" Dr. Banner finally speaks again. "That you were too effeminate?"

Loki's eyes slide to the doctor before slipping away again, once more feeling his face heat in embarrassment. He swallows thickly, shrugs again.

"Aren't I?" He forces out, fixing his eyes in his lap.

"I don't know. I'm asking you Loki." Dr. Banner answers. "Do you think you're too effeminate?"

Loki hesitates. Thinks about lying. But he knows that isn't how this therapy thing works. If he lies to Dr. Banner, Dr. Banner can't help him.

"... Sometimes." He finally answers, his voice hardly more than a whisper.

"Why?" The doctor presses, relentless.

Loki looks up at him finally, a flair of anger blooming in the pit of his stomach.

"Well aren't I?" He says again, his voice now carrying an edge. "According to society? Men are supposed to be big and strong and macho. Not the limp-wristed little sissy I am. They're supposed to be manly."

"And you don't think you are?" Dr. Banner asks calmly.

"Of course not!" Loki snaps, losing whatever cool he'd been grasping hold of. "I'm an embarrassment to everyone I've ever been with. To everyone I'm around. Everyone always likes to pretend that they don't care what other people think. They want to pretend they're rebels and that social standards don't affect them. But of course they do. You can't go unaffected when the world you live in constantly tells you you're wrong for being the way you are. When... when your own family is the fucking picture of social normality, and you're like some black stain on their perfection. I know... I know I must be an embarrassment to them. To Thor especially, when we go out together."

"You mean your brother?" Dr. Banner questions.

Loki nods stiffly, his eyes stinging again.

"Why do you think you embarrass your brother?"

"Because Thor is the definition of male masculinity." Loki says acidly. "He's what a man is supposed to be. Why would he want his girly little brother around to ruin his perfection?"

"Has he ever said or done anything to make you think that? To make you think he doesn't want you around?" Dr. Banner presses.

Loki half chokes on a laugh.

"Sure. Not... not so much now. But when we were younger, he and his friends would either pretend I didn't exist and leave me out of their stupid games, or they would make fun of me until I started fucking crying. Thor didn't show any hesitation in taking their side over mine back then. He... he's not so bad now, but I know he probably still feels embarrassed whenever he has to take me out somewhere."

"Do you wish you could be more like your brother?" The doctor questions.

Loki sneers at him.

"Do you mean am I jealous of him?" He asks back.

"If you like." Dr. Banner nods.

"Of course." Loki answers back quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"What is it about him that you're jealous of?"

"Everything." Loki spits. "He's just better than me."

"Better how?"

Loki huffs, feeling frustrated and scared, the tears threatening against the backs of his eyes pushing harder.

"He's just better." He answers. "He's better looking. He's taller, he's stronger, everybody loves him. He's got a zillion friends and makes new ones like it's as easy as breathing. He went to University, got his law degree, has a successful career now. Meanwhile I'm still living at home with my parents."

"So he's better at everything than you? There isn't anything you're better at than him?" Dr. Banner goes on, just as calm, and Loki irrationally wants to tell him to fuck off.

"Pretty much." He says instead, stubborn, crossing his arms over his chest again.

"Do you think Thor is smarter than you?" Dr. Banner asks.

Again Loki huffs, shaking his head.

"Thor is plenty smart in his own way."

"I'm sure he is Loki. But that isn't the question I asked. Do you think your brother is smarter than you?"

Loki turns his face away, staring once more fixedly at the wall.

"It depends what kind of intelligence you're asking about." He mutters.

"Loki," Dr. Banner says, his voice sounding oddly firm. "can you look at me a second?"

Loki hesitates a moment before forcing himself to turn and look at the doctor.

"You have a high level genius IQ. If I remember correctly, you scored somewhere in the high 180s on all the tests you took."

Loki shrugs.

"What I'm seeing here is you having a really hard time criticizing others while giving yourself an incredibly hard time. Do you really think Thor is smarter than you?"

"No!" Loki finally snaps. "Alright? No, I don't think he's smarter than me. I know I'm smarter than he is. Okay? Are you satisfied?"

"It's not about me being satisfied Loki. I'm trying to help you see that you aren't as worthless as you're making yourself out to be. Thor may be better at certain things than you. But equally so, you're better at certain things than him. I'm sure he would be the first person to admit that. I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit."

Loki doesn't know what to say to that, so he doesn't say anything.

"You don't think so?" Dr. Banner asks.

"If I'm so smart, why do I keep getting made a fool of by people?" Loki at last answers, his throat feeling tight.

"There's a difference between intelligence and experience Loki." Dr. Banner answers smoothly. "You're very young. You were even younger when you were in those previous relationships. You can be the smartest person in history, but it doesn't necessarily prepare you for situations in life which you haven't seen before. And if someone's older than you, has seen more than you, even if you're smarter than they are, they'll know how to work certain circumstances to their advantage. You can't blame yourself for that. For other people's selfishness or unkindness."

Loki can't stop it now as the stinging in his eyes wells further, tears forming and spilling over, down his cheeks. He wipes at them with the palm of his hand, embarrassed.

"But why does it keep happening?" He chokes out, trying vainly to keep his voice steady. "If it's about experience, wh... why do I keep getting involved with people who want to hurt me?"

"That's a tough question." Dr. Banner says. "There can be a lot of reasons for it. Again I want to point out how young you are Loki. You're still basically a kid. And you're a kid who's had to deal with a lot of pain already in your life. A lot of being lonely and feeling like you don't fit in. Having to deal with bullying. That's rough. And when you've been up against so much like that, it can leave you feeling desperate and just wanting someone to be there for you."

More tears spill hot down Loki's face, and he doesn't even bother wiping them now, knowing they'll only be replaced. He feels so stupid. Like some stupid little kid who doesn't know any better than to keep putting his hand on a hot stove top. For all his vaunted intelligence, he feels most of the time like a complete moron.

"Let's go back to Jeff for a minute." Dr. Banner goes on when the silence stretches. "You said he hit you, though he hadn't been physically abusive before. How did that come about. Obviously he was being emotionally abusive, criticizing you for what he perceived to be your effeminate manner."

Loki digs his palms into his eyes, trying to staunch the flow of tears.

"I told him he either stopped treating me like I was the greatest shame of his existence or I was going to leave him." He forces himself to say. "So he backhanded me hard enough to knock a filling loose. And that was the end of that. I left him."

Loki doesn't mention how his jaw swelled almost obscenely and remained that way for nearly a week. Doesn't mention the shock and pain and fear which filled him as the sick, coppery taste of blood had washed across his tongue and he'd crumpled like a twig to the floor. How he'd thrown his hands up over his head and coward like the pathetic wretch he was. Doesn't mention the names Jeff had called him before spitting on him and leaving him there.

Dr. Banner watches him for a few, long seconds, and Loki fights not to fidget, feeling intensely uncomfortable under the psychiatrists gaze.

"Okay. So you showed assertiveness in leaving someone who you realized could and would hurt you." The doctor finally continues. "That takes strength Loki. A lot of people don't have the strength to leave abusive situations. But lets examine what is obviously a bit of a pattern. Before that you'd been with a boy who pretended to be gay to set you up in a bet with his friends. Before that, one who was verbally abusive towards you. And then another, who was emotionally abusive, and finally physically. And this last relationship. Was that also physically abusive?"

For a moment, Loki loses focus, Dr. Banner's voice seeming to fade into the background, the room around him seeming to shrink in on him. He feels dizzy... sick... He feels the crushing strength of powerful hands around his throat, stealing his breath from him, his sight going spotty and black, panic like a wave smashing down over him. He can't breathe, and he's going to die, he thinks. He's going to die right here. Right now. And underneath that is shame so deep, he feels like he's choking on it. Feels those powerful hands again, yanking down on the waistband of his pants, of his underwear. Feels them pushing and kneading and pulling at his flesh, pushing into him... Oh God... Oh God...

"Loki?" The psychiatrist's voice finally comes back to him. "Are you alright?"

Loki starts when he realizes Dr. Banner is standing above him, looking at him with an expression of deep concern.

He blinks, looking up at the older man, feeling dazed and lost.

"Are you alright?" Dr. Banner asks again, this time reaching out, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder. "You started shaking badly."

Loki blinks again, feeling the warm wash of tears down his cheeks.

"I'm alright." He says, his voice a harsh whisper.

"Do you want a drink of water?" The doctor asks carefully.

Loki nods his head mechanically, only wanting a distraction of some kind.

"Alright." Dr. Banner says, standing and continuing to gaze at him a few, long moments, before finally stepping away, moving over to the mini refrigerator he kept in his office, opening it and pulling out a bottle of water. "Here you are." He says, handing it to Loki.

Loki takes it with trembling hands, stuttering out a thank you and focusing his attention on the bottle.

"I think maybe we should take a break?" Dr. Banner suggests, and again, Loki can only nod.

/

Bruce sighs, falling back against his seat and raking his fingers through his already disheveled hair.

He'd forgotten how difficult sessions with Loki could be.

Not that he wasn't glad to have the boy back as a patient. He remembers how almost nauseatingly worried he'd been when Loki had stopped coming to see him. Out of all his patients, Bruce had formed the opinion that Loki was in the most sincere need of psychiatric attention. Provided, most of Bruce's patients consisted on suffocated suburban housewives and people suffering from anxiety disorders. Though he had more than his fair share of more serious cases as well.

Loki, though... Loki was a real mess. A kid so young, with such a slew of issues, was always difficult for Bruce to see, and he always found himself desperately wanting to help people in those situations. People who really needed it.

He always feared failing them.

Loki had fascinated him from the moment he'd met him. It had been his parent's who'd insisted he start seeing a psychiatrist, and it hadn't been difficult to see why after only one session.

More than anything though, what had initially struck Bruce was how smart Loki was. He hadn't been blowing smoke earlier when he'd been pressing the boy about his intelligence. Loki was only what Bruce could describe as intimidating. Young and vulnerable as he obviously was, when Loki was on, Bruce often found himself struggling not to let the kid take control of their sessions and turn the process around on him. Though today, thankfully, Loki had seemed uninterested in any such antics.

Bruce worked with some deeply intelligent people. Other medical professionals who were some of the top minds in their fields, and in the world of medical science period.

None of them could hold a candle to Loki, in Bruce's opinion. The boy could be anything he wanted to be, if he only put his mind to it. But then, Bruce supposes, that was part of the issue for a kid like him. That was always the way with nature, it seemed. Giving an abundance of one thing, and then tempering it with something else.

Bruce had been a practicing psychiatrist for nearly 25 years, and in all that time, he'd never treated anyone as profoundly submerged in low self-esteem, or just a general lack of belief in himself. That he'd been dealt the blow, when he'd already essentially been grown, of discovering he was adopted, when he'd already felt alienated and apart from his family, that had seemed only to compound what was already there, as far as Bruce could tell.

Part of it, Bruce had theorized, was that, underneath it all, Loki deeply admired, even venerated his family. Certainly there was a large amount of hero worship going on with Loki in regards to his older brother, Thor. And his father too. He wanted desperately to be like them. And yet he was entirely different. Finding out he wasn't by blood related to them had been a terrible blow to an already shaky foundation of trust and sense of belonging. Had only fed into Loki's belief that he wasn't good enough and never would be.

It was strange to see someone so supremely capable, so truly brilliant, also be so entirely unsure of himself. Loki hid it well behind an act of at times sneering superiority and apathy, but when you broke past that almost flimsy shield, underneath, he was incredibly brittle and vulnerable.

Loki had asked him earlier why he was so susceptible to other people's manipulations, and while Bruce hadn't wanted to give Loki any kind of real answer until he felt more sure of his own theory's, he also strongly suspected, and was only beginning to more so over time, that the answer was heartbreakingly simple.

Loki pretended towards cynicism, acted like he was jaded and uncaring.

The truth was, he was desperate for love, and to feel like he belonged somewhere. Anywhere.

It hadn't surprised Bruce in the least when he'd found out Loki had been abandoned as an infant by his biological mother and father, left out on the cold, winter streets to die.

Even if Loki didn't remember the event, which he told Bruce he didn't, at all, it didn't mean it hadn't made a deep, lifelong impression on him. Loki's fear of abandonment was fairly obvious. He was terrified of people leaving him, and Bruce was certain that his first experience in life consisting of being abandoned by the two people who should have loved and cared for him more than anyone in the world had a great deal to do with that.

There was that trauma, added to the difficulty of what Bruce had been able to determine was fairly standard bipolar disorder, Loki suffering from extreme highs of enthusiasm and excitement, to suddenly and unexpectedly crashing into deep, suffocating depressions.

Making all of it more difficult still was the fact of his being gay and, according to Loki, knowing it by the time he was ten or eleven years old. His intelligence had obviously worked against him at that point, being so advanced in his lessons, being thrust into the world of high school, into that sort of culture and crowd. Bruce couldn't even begin to imagine how difficult that must have been, being surrounded by older, nearly full grown kids, a lot of them sexually active and experimenting, and Loki himself being a little boy who couldn't possibly have fully understood all of what he was feeling on that level.

Getting Loki to talk about that period in his life was a lot like pulling teeth, though he'd revealed enough for Bruce to know he'd been badly bullied and harassed. Some of what Loki had told him, about what some of the other kids had done to him... Bruce had read plenty of tragic, awful news story's about bullied children who had killed themselves for less.

And maybe that was the greatest tragedy of all, where Loki was concerned. That he was so incredibly strong, so incredibly brave, and he gave himself absolutely zero credit for it.

More than anything, Bruce himself feared failing Loki. Not being able to help him.

He knows, from having been given access to Loki's medical history, as his doctor, that there had been a period of years in Loki's life, when he was around thirteen to fifteen years old, that he'd been self-harming. Cutting himself, on the arms, on the legs. It wasn't something generally associated with boys. It was a condition largely, and falsely, believed to only affect young women, which could only have increased Loki's reluctance and fear in revealing it to anyone who could have helped.

Too often, when issues like that went unaddressed, it led to even more harmful behavior. Led, in some extreme cases, to suicide.

That's what scared Bruce the most.

Thank God for Loki's mother, who had been aware enough of her son to realize something was going on, and had stepped in before anything worse could develop.

Still, it broke Bruce's heart every time Loki came in wearing a short sleeved shirt, or shorts, and he saw the scars lining the inside of his forearms and along his calves.

Then there was Loki's condition now.

Bruce would have had to been deaf, dumb and blind not to see that something had happened to Loki in the time between his last seeing him and now.

Most initially obvious had been the weight loss. Loki had always been painfully thin, but he had clearly lost a massive amount of weight in the odd year and some months since last they'd talked. Weight someone like Loki really couldn't afford to lose. He was already underweight.

Bruce had had to fight to keep himself from gasping in shock when he'd hugged Loki earlier and felt how sickeningly thin he had been underneath his clothes. He'd been able to tell anyway, just from how loosely those clothes hung off of him, but actually feeling it had only made it an ugly and worrying reality.

After that was the body language.

Loki had always held himself confidently. Bruce might even describe the way he walked and carried himself as downright cocky. Always walking with his head held up high, back straight, using every inch of his height. Always looking you dead in the eye when he spoke to you, never breaking contact.

And while Bruce had been able to figure out after a short time that, like so many things with Loki, that had been a kind of facade, a kind of defense mechanism to keep people at a distance, still, it had been something Loki had always, without fail, stuck to. Even when he was having a hard time, it was incredibly rare to see the boy lose hold of that self-assured demeanor and bearing.

But it was gone now. Just... gone.

Bruce could hardly believe it at first when Loki came in today and he barely was able to look him in the eye, never did so for more than a fleeting few seconds. Bruce had never seen him hold himself the way he was doing earlier either, almost curled in on himself, turning constantly away, shoulders hunched, like for all the world, he only wanted to disappear.

Bruce had never seen the boy flinch away, but he had been doing just that almost convulsively today, at the slightest unexpected movements. Flinching violently, his pale skin turning paler still, his eyes going wide with naked fear.

Bruce had little doubt that these changes in Loki had something, maybe everything, to do with this last relationship he had been in, the one which his mother had referred to over the phone with him when she'd called to make the appointment for her son.

She hadn't said much, and Bruce hadn't pressed her too, since it was going to be Loki's right to tell, not anyone else's. Still, it was clear something terrible had happened.

What Bruce had said to Loki earlier, about his having a pattern of falling into abusive relationships, had been true, though he hadn't been criticizing Loki at all. Only trying to help the boy understand, so they could begin working on a way to help him in that regard.

Loki had only ever been involved with three people in his life, before he'd stopped coming to see Bruce. That had obviously changed in the interim. But though there had only been three, and they had been fairly short lived relationships, they'd, all three of them, been in one manner or another abusive.

The first boy Loki had been involved with had been when he was only really just a little kid still, around the age of thirteen. The boy, of course, had been slightly older than Loki. Fifteen, if Bruce recalls correctly. They'd gone out together for maybe a month, and the other boy had been insistent that they act, in school, like they didn't even know each other, which Loki had agreed to go along with. It had been Loki's first, real romantic experience, and he had told Bruce how he had just been excited to realize there were other boys like him, meaning other gay people.

That had, in part, been what led to Loki's enduring the verbal abuse from this other boy for much, much longer than he should have. The kid had, according to Loki, used to berate him viciously and loudly in public, lashing out at him with derogatory terminology, often stopping in the street in front of large crowds and just ripping into him with ugly and cruel name calling. Other times he would casually do the same, calling Loki words like "faggot" and "queer boy" and "twinkle-toes" in an affectionate manner, as if they were terms of endearment.

It was only when Loki had finally told his mother what was happening that she had stepped in and put a stop to the whole thing, breaking the relationship off for him. Loki hadn't even known, at that point, that the way this other boy had been treating him was wrong. Only that it made him feel bad.

Then there had been Jeff, who he and Loki had spoken again about earlier, and after that, the last relationship Loki had been in, before the one which Bruce had heard about from Mrs. Odinson yesterday. A young man named Robert Osborn who, perhaps cruelest of all, had pretended he was gay just to mess with Loki, to win a bet with his friends that he could trick the younger boy into thinking he was actually interested, only to set Loki up for complete public humiliation in front of everyone later on.

That, Bruce thinks, had been more devastating for Loki than any of the others.

With all the trust issues that Loki had already had, and which a disaster like the one with Robert Osborn could only have compounded, the fact that, less than a year later, apparently, he'd gotten involved with yet another abusive partner, made Bruce think that there was some element of desperation on the boy's part. That he was almost frantically seeking somebody for a partner. Maybe those fears of abandonment rearing their ugly head again, fears that he would never find anybody. Bruce was only theorizing, and he wouldn't be able to make any sort of determination on that front until he could get Loki to open up more about this latest relationship.

If the way he'd reacted to Bruce's questions about it earlier was any indication, that wasn't going to be easy.

Loki had had some sort of panic attack, it seemed, though thank heavens it hadn't lasted more than a minute before he'd snapped out of it.

The rest of the session, though, had been unsuccessful, Loki going quiet and withdrawn, saying hardly two words at a time before the hour was finished and his older brother had come to pick him up.

It was obviously a topic Bruce was going to have to be extra cautious treading around. But he had no illusions either that it was a topic he could entirely avoid.

Whatever had happened, whoever this man was that Loki had been with and whatever he had done to hurt Loki, it had plainly wrought havoc on him.

It was going to need to be addressed, and addressed soon.

Bruce sighs, leaning forward and opening up Loki's file.

There was little point in putting it off. Not with all the work to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, all my thanks to my readers! Hope you continue to enjoy!


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